


Survivor's Guilt.

by FaustyFlakes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Amputation, Androids, Blackouts, Blood, Closure, Confusion, Cyborgs, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Control, Love, Marijuana, Mystery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prosthesis, Romance, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Soldiers, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-13 05:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15357573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaustyFlakes/pseuds/FaustyFlakes
Summary: How do you move on from survivor's guilt? How do you reintegrate into society? How do you reconnect? Charlotte "Charly" Favreau has finally been given the chance to return to a normal life after three years of service to CyberLife's Cyborg and Prosthesis Division. Having formally worked for the DPD, Charlie is placed on the Deviants Case with her estranged Uncle Hank and his handsome but mechanical partner, Connor. As the trio makes progress, Charlie is forced to confront parts of her past she had attempted to suppress, also while also coming to terms with her growing affection for CyberLife's most advanced prototype.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I haven’t written anything in a while. In fact, my last fan fiction hasn't been updated for a few years. I can't say how frequently I will be able to update, but I will do my best. I would appreciate the kudos, comments and subs. Also, I am going to be following the base game as closely as possible, while also making occasional deviations for the purpose of better integrating Charly into the story. And feel free to let me know if you have any notes or notice any inconsistencies in my story. I try to keep things clear as possible. :) I will be sure to thank you the next time I post.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor enters the Detroit Police Station, searching for his superior Hank Anderson. However, upon his arrival, he is introduced to his new secondary partner; Charlotte Favreau.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: Hey! So I recently went back and edited the shit out of this chapter! I didn't realize just how many mistakes were in it! I will also be going back to edit the following chapters as well. Anyway, I am currently working on Chapter 10. Little by little, I will try to get it done by Christmas!

Red. Metal. Cold  

Red was the last color she remembered seeing before the darkness enveloped her vision. Her back remained briefly pressed against the textured wall before gradually sliding down into the metallic embrace of the icy blue floor. Her mouth hung slightly open and she attempted in vain to scream to the heavens. But after having been brutally amputated for a second time, she found herself unable to summon the strength for such an act. While she could no longer see the red liquid that dripped from the now gaping holes in her sockets, she could still register its temperature. Initially, the warmth was the most comforting sensation she could acknowledge. But as the seconds droned on and agonizingly shifted into minutes, the once warm fluid had transformed into an unsettling chill.   

What's worse is that this was not the final sensation perceived before the complete darkness overtook her.  

The presence of her aggressor remained. From what she was able to gather, the figure had not moved even a micro of an inch since they had dispatched their target. But the woman could still feel the figures' weighted authority as they continued to stand, feet firmly planted onto the floor. Why were they still standing there? Were they awaiting further orders? Were they in shock over their actions? Or were they admiring and weighing the artistic merit of their vicious work? For the woman, the most frightening part of the situation was; what would they do with her body once the darkness came?  

 However, at the present moment, she would not need to worry about being given an answer.  

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

White. A white so blinding and piercing, that it nearly knocked her back into unconsciousness. It had the intensity of an LED flashlight with a hue that matched a piece of hot iron. She winced and raised her hand over her eyes to shield herself. 

 _Wait. Eyes?_  

 _Wait, hands?!_  

Upon this sudden realization, the woman summoned every ounce of strength she could muster to force her heavy lids open. When she succeeded, the white slowly began to dissipate, revealing what looked to be a hospital room. However, her attention focused itself on the bed that she was currently sitting in. Her gaze made its way down to her sides; while she could not make them out in complete detail, it looked as though she had been grafted with a new set of prosthetic arms. From what she could tell, they were the exact same make and model that her old ones had been, albeit in much more pristine condition.  

As her eyes continued to adjust, she began to drink in her surroundings. She was surrounded by a series of four walls, all varying in shades of dull greys and depressing blues. All except for the wall on the right, which held a large clear, glass door. As the woman's eyes continued to adjust to the light, she began to make out a series of amorphous figures passing in front of the glass. If they were speaking, she could not hear a word. What she could hear, however, was the dull, almost rhythmic tone of the heart rate monitor to her left. The rest of the room was relatively bare, but from what she could gather, it looked to be some sort of hospital. However, what she could ascertain was the location of the said hospital. She recalled numerous occasions where she had visited the infirmary ward that was located on the 50th floor of the CyberLife Tower. There was no way a room this bland was located within the walls of that pristine eyesore. It lacked the shiny, glossy, trying-too-hard-to-be-professional-look that the company was infamous for. Wherever she was, she certainly was not in the tower anymore.  

Before the woman made any attempt to move, the glass door suddenly slid open. The woman's eyes still had not completely adjusted, so the person's face seemed a tad fuzzy, and the piercing light from the ceiling certainly did not help. The woman was about to open her mouth to toss a flurry of questions towards the stranger, but she was immediately cut off by her own name.  

"Charlotte t Favreau I presume?" The voice was clearly feminine and given it's more soft but mechanical tone, it was most likely an android addressing her.  

"Yeah..." Charly's response was almost inaudible.  She had seen a countless number of androids during her work, so she was not the least bit surprised that those scum fucks up top had sent a shiny bucket of bolts in their stead. Less guilt on their part.  

After a few pregnant moments of silence, the android spoke again. "Ms. Favreau?" 

It's voice jolted Charly from her thoughts. "What do you want?" Charly spat. The bitterness in her inflection did not seem to resonate, as the android did not flinch. No surprises there, but Charly chalked it more up to the fact that her voice was so horse, that it sounded like she had smoked a million Camel cigarettes. Before the android could continue, Charly spoke up again, "Here to ask me to join another failed chicken shit outfit? No tha-"  

"I assure you, Ms. Favreau," the android interjected. "That CyberLife has no interest in requesting you or your teams' services. Especially since you are the only one left..." 

Charly flinched. The reminder hit her like a shotgun blast to the gut; messy and painful. "Then..." She started again, before being cut off a second time. _I really hope this isn't a regular pattern..._  

 _"_ Well, you see Ms. Favreau, given that you are the only surviving member of your unit, CyberLife feels it only appropriate that you be dismissed from your position. Also, given your recent trauma, CyberLife wishes to assist you with re-integrating with the general population. They acknowledge that these past three years have been emotionally tasking and wish to remedy your situation as efficiently as possible." 

"In order words," a lopsided smirk grew on Charly's tired face. "They want to make things extra cushy for me, so I don't spill the beans on anything, am I right?" 

The android, who had now developed into a clearer figure, simply blinked, as if not accurately prepared to respond to Charly's lack of tact. Charly could now see the robot clearly. She had short, dark curly blonde hair that was parted in a way that made it hang predominantly on the left. She also possessed a pair of deep, dark blue eyes.  Besides the different hairstyle, the model reminded Charly of the RT600 model that helped put CyberLife on the map. The other major differences between this robot and Chloe was her outfit, which consisted of a simple dark grey blazer with a matching pair of pleated trousers, with her model number printed in white on her left breast: MR600. Charly raised an eyebrow.  _Don't recognize this model...She's either got to be a new model or she's one that those_ slimebags _use when they don't_ _wanna_ _show their faces._   

The MR600's voice rose again, her tone remaining the same even after detecting Charly's hostility. Whoever programmed her knew of Charly's situation, and knew the best possible play was to remain collected. 

"Ms. Favreau. Please keep in mind that you signed a contract that legally requires you to not disclose the nature of your work for both CyberLife and the United States Military." The robot's stoic blue orbs did not blink. It was clear that despite all their advances, CyberLife still seemed incapable of producing a robot with the ability to pull that large, metal stick that had clearly been implanted within its rectum.   

Charly let out an exhausted sigh. "Yeah, I know. I was just trying to shit-talk. CyberLife should know I'm not dumb enough to open my mouth. I'd get buried in a heartbeat." 

"Correct, Ms. Favreau".  

 _Hell, maybe th_ _is_ _robot did a sense of humor?_   

"In any case, CyberLife would like to grant any request you may have that will help make the reintegration process much smoother for you. Within reason, of course" 

Charly leaned back and ran a glossy set of fingers through her hair, "When did I get my limbs back?" Charly wiggled her toes her the bed to confirm that she had been given a new set of legs as well.  

"After you were discovered by security in Dr. Carmichael's office." 

Charly winced slightly at the name. "And where is Trevor?" 

///ZZZzzzaaappp///. 

Charly's vision was briefly met with a weird pixelated haze followed by an aggressive pounding in her skull. She winced and let out an angry hiss.  

"Unfortunately, I am not able to disclose that information." 

 _Maybe he's gone into hiding..._ Charly thought as she pressed her left index finger to her left temple and gently began to massage it. Must be some kinks in the hardware. She thought about asking the robot about but decided not to, knowing she would probably be met with more dismissal.  

"And I can't provide you with any of his contact information, in case you were wondering." 

Damn these CyberLife snakes. They've thought of everything. Oh well, may just need to find another means of contacting him... 

"What about Ghost and Ripper?" 

"As of November 1st, they are listed as MIA." 

"I thought you said my team was dead." 

"I...." The android hesitated as the LED circle on his head shifted from yellow to red, to yellow again. "While they are listed as MIA, it  is highly probable that the two are dead." 

"In other words," Charly scoffed "You've got no idea." 

The android did not respond and instead made her way closer to Charly's bed.  

"Well, what is CyberLife offering me?" 

"As of 10:30 am this morning, a large, undisclosed sum has been deposited into your bank account." Charly raised an eyebrow, as if not convinced. "If you wish to verify the deposit, you may do so using the new digital interface that has been planted within your cybernetic eyes." 

Charly's brow continued to furrow, though this time it reflected confusion rather than suspicion. She raised her left hand and tenderly ran her fingertips across the upper half of her face. Sure enough, the gaping wound that had once permeated her face was now gone. The chilled crimson that had once rested there had been cleanly wiped away.   

"CyberLife did not wish for you to begin your reintegration without your sight. They are aware that you have suffered a great deal of loss already. They felt this new addition would help make up for it." The MR600's voice continued to drone on, discussing the nature of the procedure and in what ways this upgrade would benefit Charly's situation. Charly reached over to the small rolling table that was placed to the right side of her bed and picked up the small mirror that had been placed on it. As she pulled it up to her face, she felt an odd chill travel throughout her body. Maybe it was the shock of actually having to acknowledge that these eyes, were in fact hers. Or perhaps she was expecting to see a pair of more advanced looking optic orbs staring back at her.  

Charly raised some curious fingers and gently pressed them against the skin under her eye. Whoever had designed these little buggers, must have meticulously studied photos in order to get them this accurate. They even managed to include the tiny little dark brown mutation had been embedded in her left iris since birth. The only major difference was the color. It was subtle, and Charly only noticed it when she pulled the mirror right up to her eye, but they're a small, humming amber glow resonating beneath the surface of the colored membrane.  

"Are they to your liking, Ms. Favreau?"  

"Yeah...My compliments to the artistry. I'm also digging the glow. Was that intentional or are they supposed to look like this?" 

"It was purely an aesthetic choice." 

"I actually think I might like these better than my old peepers." So... how exactly do I work these things? You mentioned some sort of interface..." Charly repeatedly blinked her eyes, half expecting a digital border to appear in her peripheral. But no such interface appeared.  

"Try moving your fingers. The ones on your dominant hand." The MR600 said. Charly complied. While she casually flexed each of her fingers, none of them yielded her desired results.  

"How the hell-" she aggressively flexed all four of her main fingers together and was met with a soft, blue film that slipped itself over both of her eyes. Initially, she jolted slightly from abruptness in which the film appeared. However, as she looked it over, she could see a variety of options listed in her right peripheral: Documents, Pictures, Music, Internet, Apps, and Options.  

"Huh...Would you look at that? I've got a smartphone lodged in my skull"  

"In a way, yes. As I mentioned, you should be able to access your bank account if yo-" 

"Holy crab cakes. You weren't kidding" While the android continued its spiel of the features provided by her new optics, Charly had already logged into her checking account to see just how many commas and zeros CyberLife had generously donated to her. When the interface appeared, all she was required to do was hover her eyes over the specific icon she wanted to access. To open it, she needed to blink once. To close it, she needed to move her gaze above the big red X and blink twice to close it. All her personal information had already been uploaded, so there was no password requirement.   

 _They_ _reall_ _y_ _have thought of everything._  

Charly continued to drown out the android's voice as she attempted to look up any sort of information about Dr. Trevor Carmichael.  

 _///ZZZzzzaaaapppp_  ///

Once again, Charly was met with an intrusive pressure that focused itself directly between her eyebrows. As the pain subsided, she discovered that the internet browser she had been using had immediately closed itself.  

 _Figures._  

 _"…_ You also have access to an alarm that optimizes itself with your sleeping patterns" 

"Great. Thanks." Charly muttered sarcastically, not even hiding the fact that she had barely been paying attention. She rubbed the side of her head tenderly with her brand new set of fingers. Upon lowering her hand, she able to get a better look at the other gift CyberLife had grafted her with. As she noted, they looked exactly like her former appendages, only in much better condition. They'd even remembered the original sets color scheme. It mirrored the design of the android's white Exo-Skin, what with its various lines embedded in the material that was meant to indicate where the joints were meant to bend.  

However, in Charly's case, these specific areas had been painted with a deep, matte black. Charly had specifically requested it when she and Trevor cycled through design specs during the initial prosthetic drafting phase. She felt it help offset the shinier, whiter parts of the Exo-Skin. In truth, she could have just gone with a design that matched her original skin tone, but Charly thought that was too boring. These were new limbs but they perfectly matched her old ones, with one exception: the words "Charly Horse" were no longer etched into the white surface. But this didn't really surprise Charly. After all, those etchings were more so her contribution. It had been an affectionate nickname given to her by Trevor. She liked it and thought scratching it into her right arm with a nail would have been the equivalent of having a tattoo. Though it didn't come out as neat as she would have liked, she felt it helped give her otherwise uniform arm a little bit of flair. She'd have to fix that at a later date.  

Charly raised her arms above her head, feeling the bones in her spine release a tremendous  _crack!_  

"So, what happens now?" She asked, throwing the blanket off of her legs. Yep, they were the spitting image of her old legs. She reached down and clutched her toes in her left hand and stretching them back. While they were mechanical, prosthetics were always a little stiff if they didn't see a lot of use. As a result, if Charly was off her feet too long, the joints would become stiff. Which was fine with her. Gave her an excuse to move around. She hated sitting still for too long. It made her anxious.  

"Well, Ms. Favreau. That entirely depends on you. Though I should inform you that there are some acquisitions that CyberLife is completely incapable of granting upon request." 

"Yeah, I figured. Though it doesn't matter too much. I'm a woman of simple tastes. I don't need much. Just a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and a gun under my pillow." Charly alternated to her other set of toes and pulled them back.  

"All of those are requests are quite doable, I assure you, Ms. Favreau." 

Charly returned to a more relaxed sitting position and leaned her head back against the rough, scratchy pillows of her hospital bed. "Is Jeremy Fowler still the head of the Detroit Police Department?" 

\----------------------------------------------------------- 

 "I am here to see Lieutenant Anderson." 

The young, attractive freckle-faced android looked up from her desk as another, male android addressed her.  "Do you have authorization?" 

"Yes." The male android responded coolly.  

As he provided affirmation to her question, the circular LED on the right side of his temple briefly shifted from blue to yellow. The male android blinked rapidly as the proof was transmitted.  

"Lieutenant Anderson hasn't arrived yet, but you can wait at his desk." 

Upon receiving this information, the male android nodded astutely and made his way through the automatic doors that led him to the police office. His eyes scanned his surroundings as he made his way to the desk of the man he had met with the previous night.  

When his eyes finally met with a white placard that spelled out Lt. Anderson's name, but not the man himself, he felt the need to inquire about the grizzled detective's whereabouts. His gaze shifted to another officer who was sitting a few feet away.  

"Excuse me," he began. "Do you know what time Lieutenant Anderson usually arrives?  

The detective shrugged his shoulders before making eye contact with the male android. "Depends on where he was the night before. If we're lucky, we'll see him before noon." The officer quickly returned to the monitor on his desk.  

"Thanks..." The android responded hastily before planting himself in the chair in front of the lieutenant's desk. However, before too long, he found himself too overcome with curiosity and began to snoop around the Detective's desk. The RK800 line were the curious type, after all.  

His investigation led to the following: The Lieutenant had a fondness for death metal music, owned a St. Bernard and seemed to be a huge Detroit Gears fan. He also had a proclivity for leaving sticky notes with little messages around his desk. There was also a small picture frame on the right side of his desk. The picture looked like it had been taken some time ago. On the glass, there was scribbled a variety of messages, which hinted at some of the Lieutenant's opinions of some of his former coworkers.  

His eyes also fell on a much smaller photograph, which had been tucked under and partially crushed by the miniature lamp on his desk. After being careful not to tear it when he pulled it out, he pulled the little piece of paper closer to inspect it. In the photograph, there were three people who looked to be standing in front of what seemed like a track field. On the left, was a stout, round-faced woman with thick-rimmed glasses and light brown hair. She had her arm tucked behind what appeared to be Lieutenant Anderson's back. Though he looked far younger. The android wondered how old this photo was. Finally, there was a young figure standing in between the woman and the Lieutenant, and given her short stature, Connor came to the conclusion she was a teenager. She had her hands planted firmly on her hips and a big grin planted on her face. Her sunset eyes brimmed brightly with confidence and enthusiasm. The girl also had auburn red hair was tied back tightly in a ponytail. The tank-top she was wearing read: Monarch and the number 10 in bolded black and orange letters.  

For a moment, Connor thought the woman and teen were Hanks' wife and child. But upon closer inspection, he concluded that was probably not the case. The woman and Hank had a similar, drooping eye shape as well as a matching eye color. But the woman had a slightly more turned up nose, but that wasn't entirely noticeable. The major difference between the two was their hair color. It was more than likely that this woman was a relative of Lieutenant Anderson's; possibly a sister.  

The young android delicately turned the photograph around in his fingers: Charly's Track Meet, 2028.  

 _Charly?_  The android was now even more intrigued than he had been before.

When the android finished his inspection, he returned himself to the chair planted in front of Anderson's desk, hands patiently pressed against his lap and eyes that curiously wandering the room.  As he sat, his attention was redirected by the sudden  _who_ _osh_  sound from the main doors that originally signaled his entrance.  

"Well, I'll be damned," said the officer he had previously spoken to. "Charly's back". 

The detective android's eyes immediately looked up.  

 _Charly?_  

The mood of the room suddenly shifted. No longer were the officers concerned with the cases they had planted on their desks. Rather, their focus became resituated to the young women who had just entered the precinct.  

Connor's jaw dropped slightly as he stared at the strange woman. She had medium length auburn hair that was tied into a loose, somewhat messy Finnish plait braid, with a few unsecured strands framing her face. She wore a long, dark green trench coat that clung tautly to her petite frame. He could tell that despite her small stature (she looked to be about 5'6), she had a decent amount of muscle on her. Under the coat, she wore a black, wrinkly, collared button-up shirt with a light blue tie that hanging with slack around her neck. The rest of her attire was a lot more casual, consisting of skin-tight black denim shorts with a dark brown belt securing them firmly around her waist. Given the cold weather, she also had on a pair of thick, textured, maroon colored stockings, which clung firmly to her muscular legs. At the end of her tights, she wore a pair of black quilted combat boots.  

The woman's eyes practically lit up as she was greeted by a small group of officers that had gathered around her. She raised a chocolate gloved hand to push one of her loose locks and tucked it behind her ear. Connor saw her smile grow as she exchanged pleasantries, side hugs and urban handshakes with the officers.

As Connor watched the woman mingle with the officers, he found himself particularly drawn to her eyes. They were a bright amber color that almost seemed to glimmer under the warm light. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about her demeanor seemed...familiar. But it was not in the way he expected. 

From the moment she had walked into the room, Connor had recognized her as the girl in the photo from Hank's desk. She had the exact same hair and eye color. The eyes had thrown him a little, as they were much more vibrant in person.  

But there was something else about her face that made him experience something he'd heard about called Déjà vu. But he could not for the life of him understand why.  

 _This is all very perplexing..._  

"Back from the dead?" Said one of the officers. His badge read the name Wilson. Connor recognized him as the officer he had spoken to when asking about the Lieutenant. He gave Charly a firm but a friendly pat on the back. "I'd heard that you'd made it out after the accident but..." 

The female officer, Tina, piped up. "What gives Favreau? You were MIA for a long time." 

Charly sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. "Yeah well...It's kind of complicated. I'm actually not allowed to go into details. I gotta keep it hush hush." 

Tina frowned. "Seriously? You fly the coop and can't even tell us why? I mean, can you at least explain how in the hell you got all four of your limbs back? I'd heard they all had to be amputated after you were carted off."  

"Yeah. The rubble pretty much crushed them beyond repair. And these..."  She flexed her left arm, causing it the fabric of the coat to further constrict around her arm. "We're a gift."  

"Oh, I get it," Miller said, his face lighting up. "Don't you guys see? They sent us an android replacement." 

There was a moment of silence as the other three gave Miller a stupefied look.  

"What? I mean, the chances of her surviving the accident were already pretty low, right? How do we know she's not here so CyberLife can eventually replace all of us?" 

"That has to be one of the dumbest conspiracy theories you have ever come up with. You may wanna get your head examined Miller." Tina spat curtly.   

Miller moved his eyes to stare bashfully at the floor.  

"Besides, that's what _he's_ here for." Wilson jerked his head to the right in Connor's direction. When he did, he saw that Connor was staring, which caused him to shift uncomfortably and return his focus back to the trio.  

Charly's eyes had followed the direction in which Wilson's head had motioned. Her fiery eyes locked with the androids curious brown ones. Connor half expected her to just shrug him off and return to her previous conversation. However, instead, she simply smiled at him. It was a soft smile and the look in her eyes indicated a feeling that Connor could not initially recognize.  

Miller's voice redirected Charly back to the three officers around her. "Hey so, how come you're back now? I mean, you can at least tell us that right?"  

"Well, I uh...After I recovered and went through a shit ton of physical therapy, I decided I wanted to come back. I felt homesick. You guys know me, I can't just sit on my ass and do nothing." 

"Does uh..." Wilson's eyes shifted nervously about the room, "Does Hank know that you're back?" 

"Well, uh...Not exactly. I wasn't sure how to go about telling him. Captain Fowler was going discuss it with him when he arrived. But from the looks of things...he's late again." 

"Well, you know the Lieutenant," said Tina "He practically lives at Jimmy's" 

All four them laughed heartily before Wilson spoke up again. "Well, we better get back to work before Fowler pokes his head out and cites us for loitering." 

Charly nodded, flashing her eyes quickly towards the clear glass box that housed Fowler's office. His ear was pressed tightly against his cell phone and his brow was aggressively furrowed as he anxiously scribbled something down on a piece of paper. "Looks like he's busy so I'll just uh...wait by my uncle's desk for now. Catch you guys later, alright?" 

"Alright," Tina said before moving with the other two officers back to their desks, "Hey, we should totally get together for drinks and catch up sometime!"  

"Sounds good! I'll let you know when I'm free!" Charly shot all three of them another smile as she casually sauntered over to where Connor was sitting.  

"Hey," she started, extending a friendly hand towards him, "I'm Charlotte Favreau. Nice to meet you." 

The small LED embedded in his right temple shifted from its cool blue to yellow. The Androids eyes blinked in rapid succession as he logged Charly's face and name into his internal database. Given the bits of the conversation he had heard, he was interested in doing further research on this peculiar woman. He wanted to find out if there was anything that could have resulted in him sensing some level of familiarity with this woman. At least, from a source other than Hank's photograph.  

Charly raised an eyebrow and Connor realized he had left her hand hanging a little too long. She was about to lower it when Connor abruptly and somewhat awkwardly jerked his own hand out to grasp hers tightly in his own and shaking it cordially. He noticed that while her hands were significantly smaller than his, her handshake was still incredibly firm. Charly shot him an amused grin. Something about his innocent gaze and slightly awkward demeanor reminded her of a lost puppy.  

"My name is Connor. I am the Android sent by CyberLife."  

"So," she let her hand drop from his and stuffed it into the pocket of her coat. "What are you in for?" 

"In for?" The android's eyes blinked as the LED on his temple spun yellow again.  

 _Figurative phrase. Idiom._  

"I am not  _in_  for anything. I am here to assist captain Anderson to investigate the rising number incidents." 

"I uh..." Charly kept forgetting just how literal these androids could be. And if this tin can had been sent for investigative purposes, trying to speak figurately would probably breed a touch of confusion. "I didn't mean it like that...Anyway. So you’re my uncle's new partner huh?" 

Connor's LED blinked once again. Another note for the database. He had been right. The older woman that had been standing next to Hank had been his sister. And this young girl was her daughter, meaning this girl was Hank's niece: Charly. 

 _What an interesting turn of events_ he thought.  

"Anyway," Charly turned "I'm gonna run to the restroom real quick. We can chat more when I get back." She gave him a small wink before turning on her heel and walking in the opposite direction towards the restroom.  

 _///_ _Software Instability_ _///_  

Connor's eyes twitched slightly as he shook his head, feeling a small bit off pressure in the back of his cybernetic skull.  _Odd,_ he thought, but he shrugged it off.  

When Charly had completely vanished from sight, Connor's attention was immediately diverted as the lumbering form of Detective Anderson made his way into the room. He looked exhausted from last night's unsuccessful interrogation. Connor decided the best response was to offer him a positive greeting, in the hopes, it would lift his spirits a little.  

"It's good to see you again Lieutenant!" He chimed.  

Anderson, having just realized that Connor was in front of him, let out an exasperated sigh "Uh, Jesus..." 

Connor thought to inform him of his niece's return, but given what he had gleaned from her conversation from the other officers, it might be best for Captain Fowler to bring it to his attention. Speaking of which... 

"Hank!" Fowler's voice echoed through the precinct as he leaned his torso against the railing of the stairs in front of his office. "In my office!" He motioned his thumb behind him before turning around and walking back inside.  

Hank rolled his tired eyes before making his way towards Fowler's glass abode. Connor, like an obedient little robot, followed after him.  

Fowler sipped his morning coffee, an exasperated look planted firmly on his face. As Connor shut the glass door behind him, Hank slid quietly into the chair in front of Fowler's desk. The android then moved to stand behind Hank, hands clasped in front of him.  

"I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day," he started. Connor's eyes shifted to his right, something having been caught in his peripheral. Charly sauntered back from the restroom and plopped herself down into the chair at Hank's desk. From where he was standing, he could see her sifting through all the little notes plastered around his desk. He wondered when Captain Fowler would inform Hank of her presence since the Lieutenant seemed too preoccupied with his incoming lecture to notice she was at his desk.  

"We've always had isolated incidents," Fowler started again, "old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap..." He turned his attention from his monitor to Hank. "But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night...This isn't just CyberLife's problem anymore. It's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan." 

 Fowler leaned back in his chair, his turning slightly to his right. Connor assumed that he had seen Charly at Hank's desk and was preparing to call her in. Fowler shifted again, giving Hank a very serious look.  

"Hank, I want you to investigate these cases and see if there's any link." 

"What?!?" Hank's posture shifted from his more relaxed position and sat straight up. "Why me? Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit? Why can't you get Miller? Or Chen? I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case!"  

Connor noted the Lieutenant's lack of cooperation. Given the nature of their relationship, Connor hoped that his niece would be able to soften his disposition somewhat. That certainly would make his job a touch easier. But then again, even if it didn't, the challenge could pose to make this case more interesting. Not that it wasn't already.  

Hank motioned his thumb in Connor's direction as he continued his rant, "I know jack shit about androids, Jeffrey! I can barely change the settings on my own phone..." 

"Everybody's overloaded, Hank! I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation." 

Hank shot up out of his chair. "Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!" Hank aggressively turned away, his face fuming. Connor's eyes followed him. He could still see the back of Charly's head, but her attention had now been switched to casually browsing her phone. Connor was also surprised that he hadn't noticed the woman sitting at his desk when he turned, but he gathered the Lieutenant was too angry to pay much attention. He was clearly seeing red.  

Fowler let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, Hank, CyberLife sent over this to help with the investigation. It's a state-of-the-art prototype. It will act as your partner." 

Hank stormed back towards Fowler's desk, shoving an antagonistic finger in his superior's face. "No fuckin' way! I don't need another partner, and certainly not this plastic prick!" Hank's torso turned slightly and he pointed his finger in Connor's direction. The android continued to remain stoic, his eyes shifting again toward Charly's direction. She had moved from Hank's chair and was now standing directly outside the office. Her autumn eyes were fixed completely on Hank and given her facial expression, she was feeling incredibly anxious about opening the door. His eyes shifted once again, and he noticed that Fowler had also been made aware of her, but his attention remained focused on his insubordinate lieutenant.  

"Hank, you are  ** _seriously_**  starting to piss me off! You are police lieutenant, for god's sakes. Would it fucking kill you to act like it for a change? You are supposed to do as I say and shut your goddamn mouth!" 

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?" 

Fowler, taken slightly aback by Hank's rude retort, raised his hand, indicating his surrender. "Ok, ok...I'll pretend I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over!" 

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ," Hank leaned over the desk Fowler's desk, in a final attempt to plead with him.  

The two went back as far as their days in the academy together. He'd been a groomsman at his wedding, which had been around Hank's mid-40s. He had had Cole even later. Not all of Hank's bits worked right given his already heavy drinking. He and his wife had some...problems conceiving Cole. Their marriage had already been pretty sour (they had gotten married on a drunk whim), so divorce followed shortly thereafter. But Hank adored his son.  

Fowler stared angrily at his former friend for a long time, and Hank matched his gaze.  

"Why are you doing this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why you doin' this to me?" Hank begged.  

Connor's eyes darted between the two men, and Charlotte, who was still standing behind the glass. Her fingers were pressed tightly against the metal knob. She looked as if she'd been struck by a horrible case of anxiety. He could her lip quivering slightly and fine beads of sweat starting to form on her forehead.  

_///SOFTWARE INSTABILITY///_

He flinched. A bizarre feeling overcame him. He couldn't properly define but he clutched at his forehead. His internal systems felt like they were warming up. Did he need to do a maintenance check  _this_  early? 

After regaining his composure, he returned his attention to the two men once again. Fowler let out an exhausted sigh before running a tired hand across his withered face. For a brief moment, he seemed lost in his thoughts.  

Fowler thought of his own son, Edwin. He'd wondered if he'd feel as guilty Hank did. Edwin and Cole had been friends in school, so the two elderly dads would occasionally shoot the shit at birthday parties and other events where the two boys wanted to have playdates. Their relationship was already somewhat strained at the point, given the psychological pressure of their jobs. They'd meet up for late drinking when he was going through the divorce with Eileen. But not so much after Cole had passed. Hank had had one too many drinks one night and lashed out at Fowler in a way that his old friend was deeply hurt by.  

 _"Why did it have to be my son?! I'd give up any other kid to bring my son back!"_ Fowler had never seen a man so broken.  

And then there was Charlotte. After Hank had lost Cole, Charlotte had been the only other person who'd been able to give him a reason to keep living, even if that reason was as thin as thread.  

As a child, Charlotte had a fairly standard relationship with her mother.  She understood that her mother was a hard worker, but also felt some bit of resentment over the fact that she worked so much.  

Though, she actually placed most of the blame on her deadbeat father. Charlotte had been the product of a drunken fling and her father had no interest in starting a family. Unfortunately for Jainey, she had too much of a conscious to have an abortion. Their mother's Catholic child rearing had influenced her. But because of her decision, Jainey had been forced (though on rare occasions) to pull double shifts at a restaurant to make ends meet, while also trying to pay her way through night school, with the goal of becoming a social worker. She eventually made it, but the endeavor nearly killed her.  

But his sister (like both Hank and their mother) had an iron-clad will to cling to hope, no matter how shitty things got. The Anderson's just had this inherent drive to keep living, even if life would repeatedly sucker punch them in the gut. That's how Jainey pushed herself to keep working. It's how Hank kept finding another reason to wake up in the morning. And how Charly had managed to survive her accident.  

Given that there were times where Jainey couldn't get a sitter, Hank would occasionally offer to watch Charlotte while her mother was at work or attending classes. At first, he wasn't sure if he was up to the task, but the two bonded relatively quickly. Charlotte greatly admired her uncle, as he was the only major father figure in her life. Because of her uncle's somewhat rough exterior (he'd often curse around her, much to the chagrin of Jainey), Charlotte developed into a bit of a tomboy.  

In middle school, she changed her name to Charly and started developing some of her uncle's more masculine mannerisms. She'd sits with her legs open, belch out loud and would sometimes curse. On a few occasions, it'd been during class. This resulted in a series of detentions. Though she wasn't completely a delinquent. Despite her somewhat crude behavior, Charly excelled academically. Her biggest hurdle was her poor people skills. Like her uncle, she could be bad at expressing herself. Charly was a tough cookie, to say the least. But there were also times where she was as sensitive as an exposed nerve.  

During one particular incident, when she was 16, she had beaten up one of her male classmates. He had been a boy of color. According to Charly's testimony, the boy had made an unkind quip about her uncle. She responded by hitting him upside the head with her science textbook.  

 _'My dad says your uncle kills a lot of people. Says your uncle will probably shoot one of my cousins one day!'_  

When she was 17, Hank had been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant. Fowler recalled the party that had been thrown to celebrate Hank's achievement. Charly had made the announcement during a series of drunken toasts.  

 _'I'm going to follow in my Uncle Hank's footsteps. Hell, I'm going to do my best to one-up him and get to_ _L_ ieutenant  _before_ _I hit 27!'_  

The response was primarily met with laughs and a brief applause. Charly's mother, on the other hand, did not take the news well at all. Eventually, they would settle on a compromise; instead of joining the police force, Charly would attend Law School. That way, she'd be able to help keep the Detroit Streets Clean of Crime while also avoiding getting killed in the line of duty.  

Fowler remembered the few occasions where Hank would bring his niece to work, which probably didn't help lessen her desire to become a police officer. She got to experience the environment first hand and it ultimately fueled her conviction.  

Eventually, due to some personal reasons, Charly disobeyed her mother and ended up joining the Detroit Police Academy at the age of 21 and joining the police force at 22. At 23 was when her little cousin Cole had passed away. A month later, Charly had the accident that rendered her a quadruple amputee. And shortly after that, she'd had vanished entirely.   

Hank loved Charlotte like his own little girl. She looked after Cole. She was incredibly protective over her little cousin and would often spoil him when she was babysitting for him, not that he minded. This meant she was equally devastated the day Cole had passed. 

She held Hank's tightly at the funeral that day... 

On the day of her accident, after she'd been wheeled off to the hospital, he didn't show up to work for 3 whole days. And when she'd been removed from the hospital and taken to an undisclosed location by the United States military, he didn't show up for almost a month. When returned, he requested to be placed in the homicide unit.  

Rumors flew about Charly's fate, but Fowler didn't put much stock into conspiracy theories. 

But when she'd phoned him 2 weeks prior, he nearly dropped the coffee he'd been drinking. At first, he'd been incredibly hesitant about placing her on homicide, especially given how little experience she'd had on the force. However, when she forwarded him a letter of recommendation from the U.S Military, he found himself floored. 

 While the letter disclosed that military grade specialists firmly recommended Charly, Fowler had trouble concluding why. When the spoke via video conference, he got a glimpse at her new cybernetic hardware, which left him utterly dumbfounded. He had so many questions but had the sneaking suspicion he wasn't going to be getting any answers.  

After stewing with it for a few days, Fowler finally accepted to appoint Charly to work with her uncle. With any luck, maybe she could soften the old Cogger again.  

Fowler knew he'd have to let Charly inside eventually. Even though only three years had passed since he'd last seen her, he had barely recognized her. Her features seemed a lot more...worn. While her eyes were incredibly vibrant (more so than he remembered), he could tell she had bags under eyes. Whatever work she had been doing, it'd clearly taken its toll. He could only assume that the reason she was so insistent on joining homicide was that she wanted to see her grizzled old uncle again.  

"Listen," Fowler sat up and looked Hank dead in the eye. "I've had just about enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. If you're really gonna give me that hard of a time, how about I just send your fucking niece out to do your job for you!" 

Hank's eyes widened and his fist clenched. "The fuck did you say about my niece?" He seemed completely thrown off guard by that remark.  

Fowler ignored Hank's question and motioned his hand to usher Charly inside.  

Connor shifted on his feet. The tension in the room had been so dense, it was like thick fog.  

"Sorry..." Connor raised an eyebrow.  By the much mousier tone of her voice and the softer look in her eyes, Connor concluded that Charly's rough exterior weakened around her uncle. Despite his drinking, Charly had the utmost amount of respect for her uncle.  

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" She asked.  

When Hank had heard the voice, he immediately spun on his heel to face the woman standing in the doorway. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and his jaw practically crashed to the floor. As he looked at what he thought to be a ghost, all the color drained from his face.  

"Hey, uncle...Long time no see." 

**END OF CHAPTER ONE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave any feedback :) Kudos, comments and subs are much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charly becomes re-situated within the DPD as she takes on the role of a homicide detective. Though it turns out to be a lot more tumultuous than she'd initially anticipated. On top of that, she finds herself in conflict about whether or not she can constitute androids as "alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hai everyone! I actually went back and re-edited a bunch of my chapters. There were a lot of errors I missed and for that I am sorry...

CHAPTER 2 

"Hey, uncle...Long time no see." Charly hadn't completely entered the room. Instead, her gloved hands continued to cling to the handle of the glass door, as if for dear life.  

"Wh... what the fuck...how...who in the..." Hank's voice shook as he spoke, trying to make sense of everything that was happening.  

"Come on in Charly." Fowler's voice broke the tension in Charly's grip and she pushed herself further into the room, standing firm attention in front of the captain's desk.  

Hank's eyes never left her, his mouth still hanging open in disbelief at the phantom before him. "Now Hank," he started. "I know this a lot. But Charly here will be joining you and the android's investigation. Now, normally I would have flat out refused given your niece's lack of experience but...then I was sent this." Fowler quickly turned his computer monitor around so that the Lieutenant could read what was on it.  

Hank's tired and bewildered sight shifted to the bright, glowing square in front of him. His eyes immediately darted back to his niece as once he finished reading it.  

"Jesus Christ...Jesus, FUCKING Christ!"  

Before anyone else in the room could protest, Hank aggressively shoved himself past Charly, pushed the door open and made his way out of the glass hot box.  

Connor, curious to see what had set Hank off, shifted himself closer to the monitor to read it: 

 _Dear Captain Fowler:_  

 _While we acknowledge the abruptness at which you are receiving this, we wish to commend Charlotte Favreau on her cooperation_ and bravery _during her time as a temporary affiliate_ of _the United States Military. While the specifics of her work may not be disclosed for legal reasons, it is with the highest honors that_  we recommend _Charlotte Nadine Favreau_   _to the Detroit City Police Department._  

 _Ms._   _Favreau_   _has proved herself as being exceptionally capable in the following aspects:_  

  1. Intelligence collection _._
  2. _Physical stamina and aptitude._
  3. Expertise in both hand-to-hand and ranged combat _._



If you have any questions regarding the information we have provided, please do not hesitate to _contact our Human Resource Specialist Department, which is located the main body of this email._

 _Sincerely,_  

 _ **Miranda Castaneda,**_  

 _ **General, US Army Chief of Staff.**_  

Connor logged the letter into his internal database. The more information that was sprinkled before him, the deeper he found himself wanting to dig.  

"Connor." Fowler's voice pulled the android from his thoughts. "Could you step out for a moment? I need to speak with Ms. Favreau." 

"Of course. I wouldn't want to bother you any longer. Have a nice day, Captain." He nodded to Fowler and then turned to look at Charly. "I will see you later, Ms. Favreau. I look forward to working with you and your uncle." Connor quickly turned and made his way out.   

Fowler kept his attention focused on Charly. "Take a seat." 

Charly, still feeling somewhat tense, stood stiffly in front of her superior for a moment before immediately planting herself in the chair.  

"Now, I will have Lieutenant Anderson and the android give you the details on the investigation thus far. In the meantime," Fowler pulled a manila folder out from one of his drawers. "You know the drill; paperwork first." 

Charly smiled and rested a hand on her cheek. "It's funny that no matter how much our world advances, we still have to deal with a paper trail?"  

"Well, you know what they say, progress is slow." He slid the folder over to her. "Insurance, payroll, weapons acquisition." He handed her a pen.  

Charly darted the pen across the paper, doing her best to fill everything out as fast as possible. "So... how is Hank?" 

Fowler re-positioned himself in front of his keyboard and began typing away. "You really need to ask?" He raised his eyes above the monitor when he heard the scribbling abruptly stop. He saw Charly wince a little. Despite how tough the girl was, Hank was the one thing that'd always break down her defenses. "So, how are you feeling kid?" 

"I'm alive, aren't I?" The pen aggressively scratched against the paper once again.   

"Yeah, to everyone's surprise. Though there's so much smoke and mirrors involved in this, Charly. He's gonna wanna know what's going on. We all do..." 

"And I'll tell him...Just not right now. Gotta find a way to do it without getting drowned in a bunch of legal bullshit." 

"Just be prepared to pull some teeth, kid."  

Wanting to change the subject, Charly peeked to her left, catching the figure of her uncle and the android at their desks. Her uncle was slouched over his monitor. But the android was staring directly at her. She raised a confused eyebrow at him, but it did not seem to deter him.  

"That android," she waved to him and he waved back. "He's an odd one." 

"Yeah, he's supposed to be state-of-the-art. He's friendly enough but...he can be kind of awkward." 

"I noticed." After another couple of minutes of scribbling (her already terrible handwriting hadn't improved much), she plopped the folder back down on the desk. 

Fowler pulled out the weapon acquisition form, signed it, and pulled out the pink copy from underneath and slid it over back to Charly. "I'll have the rest of this sent down to HR. You remember what to do with the pink one right?" 

Charly stood up. "Yep. Shirley still with that Carter guy? The one from Internal Affairs?" 

"They got married last June. She's two months pregnant." 

"Wow. It's amazing how much changes..." She started making her way over to the door.  

"Hey, Charly," Fowler spoke up before she grasped the door handle.  

"Yeah?" 

"It's good to see you again kid." 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"Unbelievable...absolutely-unfucking-believable." The Lieutenant muttered to himself, typing furiously away at his desk. The initial shock of seeing his-once-believed dead niece had completely melted away and had now been replaced by something much darker, more bitter. He felt betrayed. This entire time, he had believed Charlotte to be dead. But there she had been, limbs and all. And now, he was going to be stuck working with her while also babysitting the pile of circuits who was staring at him.  

Hank let out an exhausted sigh. While he was indeed angry, a part of him felt a touch relieved. He'd be able to work with someone he could actually tolerate. That, to him at least, was a much more welcoming situation.  

Hank's eyes absentmindedly wandered to the picture that had been poorly tucked under the lamp on his desk. He assumed the android had been snooping, but he didn't think he'd be so sloppy about covering it up. At first, he thought about verbally ripping into the android again, but was too overcome by nostalgia when he saw the photo.  

He wouldn't forgive Charly that easily, but when looking at the photo, his heart sank a little. Jainey...fuck, he had to tell Charly about her mother.  

Connor eyed his disgruntled partner. He had tried previously to stroke up a conversation, but it ended in abject failure. The android had apologized for inconveniencing the captain and tried his best to convince him about excited he was about working with both him and Charly. The Lieutenant just stared at his computer monitor, fuming.  

Hank could feel the android staring at him but did his best to ignore it. Though that attitude didn't do much to quell his problems.  

"You have a dog, right?" Connor thought it might be beneficial for the Lieutenant to find something new to focus on. Even if it meant annoying him, at least it would get his mind off Charly.  

Hank glowered over at the android, who blinked innocently back at him. 

 _Figures he'd be snooping..._  

 _"_ How do you know that?" 

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs! What's your dog's name?" 

God damn it, _why is this thing so fuckin' chipper all the time?_  

 _"_ What's it to you?" Hank demanded.  

Connor, having no real response to that question, awkwardly turned his eyes back to the computer screen in front of him. 

After a couple moments of awkward white noise, Hank responded. "Sumo...I call him Sumo." 

 _ **Hank: ^**_  

Connor blinked. He felt a warm feeling run through his components. It seemed Hank had softened a touch. Connor tried to keep the momentum going.

"I see. That's a very interesting name. " 

Hank just grumbled. 

"Do you listen to Knights of the Black Death?" 

Then his face scrunched up.  

"I really like that music. It's full of...energy." 

The grizzled detective gave the android a skeptical glare. "You  _listen_ to heavy metal?"  

"Well, I don't really listen to music as such...but I'd like to." Connor offered him a sincere nod.  

Hank, not entirely sure how to respond, just returned to his task of typing away at his keyboard. But Connor could once again feel the tension between the two lessen a little. Hank's heat temperature dropped slightly, suggesting he was cooling down.  

Connor had initially opted to strike up a conversation about the Detroit Gears game that had played during the previous night but then decided against it. He had recalled it being displayed up on the television screen at Jimmy's bar. He felt bringing it up would just sour the captain's mood again.  

Unfortunately, Connor could think of nothing else to talk about. So, he quickly decided it would be more beneficial to return to work on the case. "If you have any files on deviants, I'd like to look at them." 

Hank aggressively pointed at the computer on the android's desk. Terminals on your desk. Knock yourself out." 

"Thank you." Connor reached his hand out to access the computer. The current deviant files appeared in front of him and he began to hastily read through them. Given he could scan all the information into his internal database almost instantly, it did not take him long to finish going over the files. 

He stewed over the information for a few short minutes and then turned his head to address Hank once again. However, before he got a chance to speak, his eyes became drawn to the form of Charly, who was scribbling away at some papers on her lap.  

Something in his internal mechanical cortex nagged at him. He still could not overcome that strange feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had seen this woman before. He just could not place the time nor the place.  

Just then, Connor's brown eyes were met with Charly's ember ones.  

**_/////????###%ERROR????//////_ **

Connor froze, and he once again experienced an unknown pressure rush through the internal processors of his wired skull.  

There it was again, though he noticed that this time, it was much more pronounced.  

Again...?  _Do I need to run a_ maintenance check _this early?_  

Charly gave the robot a confused look. Connor—not wanting to make his additional partner uncomfortable—tried to offset the awkward situation by giving her a friendly wave. The last thing he needed was another uncooperative human.  

To his satisfaction, she waved back.  

 _I_   _may need to speak to Amanda about this, though she won't be pleased._

Connor was about to open his mouth to speak to Hank when he was suddenly overcome with an idea. Returning to the terminal once again, he closed the case file on deviants and instead opened the DPD's fingerprint database. Given that Charly had been a cop, she would have been required to do a fingerprint scan. Maybe there was more information on her there. 

 _Wait. What am I doing? This has nothing to do with the investigation._  

Connor could not understand why he was so fixated on learning more about Hank's niece. He had been created with one directive in mind: to solve the deviant cases. Connor stared quietly at the screen for 2 long minutes, trying to find a means to rationalize the decision he was about to make.  

 _It's just like with Hank..._ he thought to himself. He needed to be able to get the humans to be cooperative with him if he wanted to increase his chances of solving this case in a timely and efficient manner.  He needed the humans to be cooperative with him. He needed to solve this case. If he wanted either of those outcomes, he needed to learn more about them. 

Yes. This is sufficient _._  

Connor typed in the name: Charlotte Favreau. In it, he found a couple matches, scattered throughout Detroit. He narrowed the search by including her middle name, Nadine.

 **1 match found!**  

Upon opening Charly's file, he learned the following: 

She had only been an enrolled employee for the DPD for about 2 and a half years. According to her file, she had injured in what could only be described as a freak accident. She was then placed on medical leave for an undisclosed amount of time.  

_This must be the inciting incident..._

He continued to scroll. The accident in question took place around Halloween of 2035. There was a parade being held in the main square of Downtown Detroit. Charly had been on patrol in the area and was asked to investigate a minor robbery that had taken place at a liquor store on Main Street. As she was taking the manager's statement, everything came to a resounding halt when a drunk man operating a ghost float crashed into the building. Apparently, Charly pushed the manager out of the way and had been crushed underneath the giant vehicle.  

In the medical report, it stated that the front wheels of the vehicle had completely crushed her arms. The back wheels had come undone in the crash and rolled off down on opposite ends of the street. However, this caused the back end of the vehicle to drop a few inches. This resulted in it pressing down on Charly's legs, also mangling them. The report concluded that the perpetrator of the incident had been at .10% and was effectively charged with drunken endangerment and accidental attempted manslaughter.  

Connor, feeling though he had read enough, closed the window.  

Those injuries were quite severe _. One must wonder why in the world the United States Military assisted Ms. Favreau with her recovery_.  _And what kind of work did she do for them?_  

He recalled the personal letter he had seen previously plastered on Fowler's screen: 

 _Intelligence collection_.  _Physical stamina and aptitude._   _Expertise in both hand-to-hand and ranged_   _combat._  

Those were all an exceptional range of skills. He wondered how anyone could have acquired them in such a short amount of time. Those must have been some incredibly advanced prosthetics.  

Connor closed the report, but then something else caught his attention. On Charly's bio page, it listed her mother, Jainey Favreau. That must have been the woman from the photograph. He scrolled the cursor over to the woman's name and clicked on it. 

The file stated she had never been married and that she had undergone a name change from Anderson to Favreau back in 2008. 

 _Hmmm...so Ms. Favreau's mother changed her name. I wonder why..._  

He had assumed that Charlotte's differing last name had been from her mother adopting the last name of the man with whom she'd had their daughter with. But it seemed that was not the case. Connor had just discovered a new piece of information that intrigued him.  

"Lieutenant," Connor started. "May I ask you something?" 

"No, but you're going to anyway." 

He was right. But before Connor could open his mouth to continue, he was distracted by Charlotte swinging open the door to Fowler's office and ambling down the stairs. He initially expected her to come straight towards them, but she immediately veered left. From there, she disappeared down the hall that was lined up against Fowler's office.  

Hank, who had turned his head to see what the android had been looking at, abruptly sat up from his chair.  

"Lieutenant!" Connor protested. But the cantankerous detective had already bolted after his niece.  

Connor considered going after him but decided against it. This was a personal matter and he did not want to cause any more friction with Hank.  

Connor was about to close the window when his eyes caught something written directly under Jainey's profile picture.  

"Oh dear..." 

\---------------------------------------------------- 

Charly was about to step into the elevator in front of her when she felt a hand firmly grab hold of her shoulder. As the doors slid open, she felt her body get nudged forward. In response, she dug the heel of her boot back into the unknown perpetrators' foot. They let out a pained howl.  

Charly ignored the assailants cry and fiercely swung her right hand around, fully prepared to make impact with their jugular. But when her uncle Hank came into her line of sight, her momentum immediately came to a halt. 

"Uncle Hank?" She stepped back, quickly dropping her arms.

Hank winced as held his left foot firmly in his hands. "Jesus whale humping Christ, Charly. What did they put in those limbs of yours, a fucking tanker truck?" 

Charly remained quiet, her eyes firmly planted on the man in front of her.  

"What, no hello?" Hank gently lowered his foot back down to the floor, leaning on it see if it was still possible for him to put weight on it.  

Before Hank had entirely regained his balance, he was suddenly rushed by his petite niece throwing her arms around his neck. Given how much shorter she was, Charly was forced to stand on her tip-toes in order to reach him.  

"I missed you so much, Uncle Hank."  

Hank, who had been thrown completely off-guard by the assault, stumbled backward slightly and hit the wall of the elevator with a resonant  _thud_. When the initial shock subsided, he looked down at the figure who was still clinging tightly around his neck. For a brief moment, Hank's tense shoulders relaxed, and he was overcome with a feeling of relief. However, that was quickly replaced again by the feeling of stubborn bitterness he had been permanently glued to his conscious all these years.  

"Where the hell have you been?" He finally managed to mutter, his tone reflecting the negative emotions stirring around inside of him.  

Charly, sensing the tension resurfacing, slowly pulled her arms away and dropped back down to a normal standing position.  

"I-" she began. 

 _Ding! 5th floor! Administration!_  

"Look, can we discuss this later? Maybe when we aren't at work?" Charly turned and hustled out. "I need to drop this off." She waved the loose piece of pink paper around in her hand before continuing her walk down the hall. 

Before she even made it an inch, Hank bolted around her and stood dead center in the hallway in an attempt to block her path.  

"You don't get to fuckin' pick and choose when we get to talk about  _anything_! You aren't just allowed to pull a Houdini and pretend everything is just sunshine and unicorns." 

Charly didn't respond and instead stood her ground in front of the disgruntled figure that was towering over her.  

"3 years. Not one fucking phone call? Text? Email? You could have at least sent me a god damned letter!" 

"Hank, believe me. I wanted to. I did, but-" Hank interrupted her. She flinched.  

"And now, suddenly, poof! Here you are! And you’ve also by some miracle, grown your fucking limbs back!" 

Charly pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose and gently massaged it. "Uncle...please-" Once again, she did not get far. 

"What, did your boyfriend Trevor give you those limbs? Let me guess, he dumped you, right? And now you think you can just crawl back into my life?" 

Charly's left hand clenched tightly around the pink paper. She had to keep her cool. Hank was just venting out years of uncorked rage. He had been like a dormant volcano of emotions. With Charly back in the picture, he was ready to burst. In her mind, he had earned the right to be this pissed off with her. But one also has to keep in mind that Charly was a lot like her uncle. Given enough push, she'd eventually snap. 

"You read the letter, uncle. You know I can't disclose any of that information to-" 

"Bull shit! You're just looking for an excuse to keep me further in the dark!" 

"That's not true!" Another volcano was getting close to erupting. She could feel the metaphorical hot magma bubbling up in her gut. She wanted to bolt down the hall just, so she could get her body moving again. The anxiety of standing still made her feel nauseous.  

"Listen...uncle. I wanted to tell you and mom everything. I did but..." Charly bit down on her inner cheek to keep the waterworks from bursting. "I was selfish..." She muttered. 

"What?" 

"I was selfish, ok?! You know I hate being a lump on a log! After the accident...damn it, I lost everything. And Trevor he..." Her mind was briefly flooded with images of her former friend. The glass casing that surrounded her mental foundation was beginning to crack and moisture began to form in her flickering eyes. "I didn't want to go the rest of my life not being able to move again. To not be able to...run, jump, dance...or drop kick criminals..."  

"Charly..." Hank was somewhat impressed with his niece's level of acknowledgment about how selfish her choice had been. But not by much. "Couldn't you have waited? At least until after I buried my boy?" 

Charly shook her head. She had wanted to, but according to Trevor, his offer was incredibly time sensitive. "I couldn't..." Charly lowered her gaze to stare at the cool, midnight blue tiles on the floor.  

"Fuck..." Hank cursed. "That has to be the most piss poor response I've ever heard. Your mom spent a countless number of hours trying to find you, Charly. It fucking killed her Charly! And that's all you have to say?! Do you think that was a good enough reason? You pushed that woman into her fucking grave!" 

The hot liquid rage burst forth from Hank's mouth. He knew he'd later regret being this cruel to her, but at the moment, it was cathartic.  

However, those last words finally shattered the foundation of Charly's composure. "YOU THINK I DON'T ALREADY KNOW THAT?!" Her booming voice was followed by a violent, echoing slam that caused the wall to her left to reverberate. Hank, realizing he should have kept that last part to himself, stared hauntingly at his niece.  

Her outburst had not only led to her raising her voice by several octaves, but also resulted in her fist colliding with the wall next to her. The office monkeys down the hall—who had been not-so-subtly been peering in on the drama—scurried back to their cubicles in a frenzy. Shaken, inaudible whispers resonated through the corridor and Hank had half a mind to tell them to mind their own god damned business.  

But the detective was still recovering from the shock of what his niece had just done. Her eyes were still fixed to the floor and her chest was heaving. It was clear he had gone too far.  

"Jesus, Charly I..." He didn't know where to steer his words.  

Charly, immediately upon hearing her uncle's voice, lowered her hand from the imprint she had left in the wall. The dent wasn't deep and would be easy to patch up. The bigger concern was the wild assortment of spider web cracks that splintered outward upon impact with Charly's fist. As Charly lowered her hand back down to her side, tiny bits of drywall and dust sprinkled to the floor.  

"I saw the obituary. Stress-induced heart attack..." Her voice was shaky, and he could tell she was on the brink of sobbing. "I've lived with this raw, gnawing feeling for a while. It started when I agreed to have these limbs installed and leave everyone else behind. And it continued to fester for years...But I think mom was my breaking point." Charly finally looked up, eyes red and swollen. The dam had finally burst. "I actually had 7 more years left on my contract." 

Hank's eyes widened. "Wh...what?" 

"Yeah...but Trevor found a way for the both us to get out. I can't say any more than that. At least, not right now."  

A part of Hank wanted to let loose another verbal assault. He wanted answers so he and Jainey could finally have a fragment of closure. But he knew he wasn't going to get that. 

"Do you promise to eventually tell me what the hell is going on?" 

Charly nodded her head. "Yes, uncle. I promise." 

Hank reached up one of his pinkies. When she had been little, this was the means they used to swear promises to each other. "Cross your heart and hope to die?" 

A weak smile cracked on Charly's lips and she looped her pinky through his."Or else stick a needle in my pie." She knew it was eye, but when she was 5, she'd heard the word pie instead. Hank never corrected her because he thought it made their pinky exchanges more unique. 

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, they both lowered their hands. "So," Hank began sheepishly, "What do you need to drop off?"  

"My firearms acquisition form." She replied, holding up the pink paper. Hank immediately snatched it from her hands.  

"Hey!" She cried out.  

"I'll take care of this for you. You shouldn't have to deal with office bureaucracy on your first day back. There's work to be done." 

"Hank...I don't think they'll let you-" 

"Don't worry. If it's got Fowler's signature, they don't give a shit who the guns are for!" With a lopsided grin, Hank spun on his heel and began to strut down the hallway.  

Charly shook her head before shouting, "This wouldn't happen to be a convenient excuse for you to avoid that android, would it uncle?" 

Hank briefly stopped in his tracks before slouching his shoulders and jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. Charly aimed to prod him a bit more, but she was met with a series of grumbled curse words as her uncle resumed his walk down the hall.  

 _Some things never change..._  

 _\---------------------------------------------------------_  

Connor checked the time. It had been approximately 4 minutes and 32 seconds since the Lieutenant had chased after his niece. He'd hoped they'd both be back soon, as he was itching to get the investigation underway. He was just about to pull his trademark quarter out in order to pass the time when he was struck with an idea.  

 _Coffee!_  

In his initial observations on humans, he concluded that they were completely enamored with the substance known as coffee. Connor pushed himself up from his seat. Coffee could prove to be the perfect peace offering for the Lieutenant as well as a welcoming gesture to Charly.  

Upon reaching the break room, Connor made his way over to the coffee machine. While he wasn't sure what type of coffee either detective enjoyed, he was under the impression that they would still appreciate the gesture.  

However, as the hot brown liquid began to fill up the first cup, an aggressive sounding voice caught his attention.  

"Fuck, look at that..." The voice scoffed. "Our friend the plastic detective is back in town!" 

Connor immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Detective Reed. The android quickly replaced the already full cup with an empty one. He then turned to face Reed, seeing another officer seated beside him. Connor's retinal scanners ran her face through his internal database and learned that she was officer Tina Chen. She didn't offer any sort of response to Reed's unfavorable introduction. 

"Congratulations on last night!" He gave a slow, condescending clap. "Very impressive! Could've got something outta that android last night if you hadn't fucked it up..." Gavin swirled his cup idly around in his hand before taking a huge, unyielding gulp.  

Connor wanting nothing more than civility—despite how quickly he gathered he was completely unwanted—responded with a default greeting. "Hello, detective Reed." He nodded his head before also introducing himself to the female officer. "My name is Connor." 

Officer Chen said nothing.  

Reed simply scoffed before getting up from his seat. He made it seem as though he was about to exit the premises when he stopped directly next to Connor. "Never seen an android like you before...What model are you?" 

Connor thought the question was rather ludicrous, as the answer to it was clearly printed above the right breast of his jacket. Before making any attempt at a retort, the coffee maker  _dinged!_ behind him. Right. Making Hank and Charly more at ease was more important to his mission. He saw no need to answer Reed's question.  

"I'm sorry, but I'm not authorized to answer you. If you have any questions, please contact your superior." 

Gavin, seemingly taken aback by the refusal, looked back to Tina, pointing a finger at Connor in disbelief. The gesture seemed to communicate: can-you-believe-this-hunk-of-metal? 

Not deterred by the android's lack of compliance, Gavin demanded, "Hey, bring me coffee dipshit. I see you've made two over there. Don't know why you'd need two. Rust buckets like you don't drink that shit. So why not donate it to me instead? I guarantee it'll go to a good cause." Gavin gave a cheeky wink before snapping his fingers and pointing in the direction of his crotch. 

Connor, completely un-phased by the Detective's rude and suggestive behavior, merely blinked.  

"GET A MOVE ON!" He demanded a second time.  

"I'm sorry, but I only take orders from Lieutenant Anderson." His voice modules remained neutral.  

"Oh...Oh...." Gavin chuckled before reaching his fist back and suddenly slamming it into the unsuspecting android's stomach.  

Again, androids did not feel pain, but there was an overwhelming pressure in his regulator that caused him to lose his balance and crumble to the floor, his gut pressed firmly against his hand.  

"When a human gives you an order, you obey." Gavin leaned down to look the wounded robot dead in the eyes. "Got it? Now stay outta my way...Next time you won't get off so easy." He punctuated the sentence by placing two fingers against the android's temple and giving his head a firm shove as if to simulate Reed blowing the robot's circuitry out.  

"How's this for easy?"  

Gavin had been so preoccupied with putting Connor in his place and asserting his machismo over a hunk of plastic, that he had been made completely unaware of the heavy footsteps that bee-lined right for him. And by the time he had registered the small woman in front of him, he'd already been firmly clocked in the jaw.  

"Gahh!" He cried, stumbling back and clutching his jaw. "What the-" he was cut off, this time by the woman's' boot, which driven itself into his stomach, forcing him back against the wall. He let out another gasp of pained surprise and reached a hand out to draw his gun. But then his throat became firmly lodged between the sole and heel of Charly's boot. Her leg, while short, was flexible and it had managed to reach out high enough to pin Detective Reed directly to the wall.  

"You lay a finger on that RK800 model again, and you'll be fishing teeth out of your shit for a month." 

Gavin only flinched.  

"Charlotte!" Tina finally broke her vow of silence. "Let him go. It's just an android." 

Charly turned her head and glared fiery daggers at Chen, which caused the officer to back down.  

"Fucking hell, Chen" Gavin managed to spit out. "You know this cunt?" 

"Gavin, don't tell me you've forgotten Officer Favreau," Chen said.  

"Detective now, actually." Charly countered. "I've been assigned to homicide thanks to some glowing recommendations. This android is now in my care, as well as Hank's. So, if you break it..." Charly flexed her leg slightly so as to increase the pressure she was putting on the defenseless Detective's neck. "I'll break you." 

Gavin let out a stifled laugh. "Oh shit! Anderson's spicy lil niece huh? And here I'd thought that fine ass of yours had gone to waste after the accident." He planned to finish his remark with a wink but found decided against it when Charly fixed her infernal gaze upon him.  

"Keep pushing it, Reed. Or are you trying to win the Darwin Award?" 

Reed scoffed, "Yeah, yeah. Alright. I won't touch a single hair on your pretty robo-boyfriend's head, ok?" 

Charly, despite knowing he was full of shit, slowly eased her leg down from his throat.

Gavin let out a grateful inhale of air. "Didn't think you liked it that rough..." He muttered.  

 _Always a_ sleazeball _..._  

Gavin, with his tail, tucked firmly between his legs, darted out of the room. Chen was about to follow suit when she stopped to look at both Charly and the still hunched over android.  

"That seemed a bit excessive..." 

Charly shrugged and simply rolled her left arm. "Be honest Chen. He's had that coming for a while." 

Chen took one final look at Connor before making her exit. "I guess so...still don't think punching an android was good enough of a reason for you to almost choke a man to death." 

Charly ignored Chen's opinion and instead kneeled down beside Connor, his hand still pressed against his abdomen. The pressure had subsided as quickly as it came but he had found himself overcome with more curiosity as he tried to ascertain why Detective Favreau had defended him. 

"You alright?" She offered him a genuine smile, her eyes giving off a soft glow.  

_**/////** _ _**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY** _ _**/////** _

Connor seemed somewhat put off by her level of sincerity. Most, if not all humans, treated him as a burden. This fact did not bother him, as he remained bound to his duties. However, Ms. Favreau, despite only having just met Connor, was willing to place herself in the middle of a conflict—one that had nothing to do with her—in order to keep help him. 

"Androids do not feel pain, Detective Favreau," Connor said as he pushed himself up from the floor. "While I do appreciate your assistance, I would recommend you avoid taking such actions in the future. If I am damaged beyond repair, CyberLife can simply replace me with a new model." 

Expendability. A feeling Charly knew all too well.  

"Well, I uh..." She sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. "Do you like dogs?" 

Connor, albeit somewhat confused by the question, simply nodded his head.  

"Well, it's kind of like when you see someone beating up on a puppy. Puppies are cute. You shouldn't beat up on cute things..."  

Connor blinked awkwardly at the petite woman. She had a great deal of precision and power, and yet she was motivated...because she thought something was cute? 

That cute thing in question being Connor.  

Shit. Charly thought. He probably thinks I just compared him to a dog. That's Gavin levels of condescension _..._  

Charly opened her mouth to apologize, but Connor beat her to it. "Am I to understand that you find me cute, Detective? In the same manner as a small dog?" 

Charly kicked herself internally. "I uh...Hey! Did you make coffee? Man, I'd kill for a cup." She swiftly moved passed the android and swooped up the warm cup in her hands.  

Connor, sensing both her discomfort and her desire to change the subject, responded to her question. "I made one for both you and Lieutenant Anderson. Though I am afraid I must admit, I was not entirely sure what to put in them." 

"Here," she said and motioned her head to beckon him next to her, which he followed. When he was standing next to her, he saw her quickly open two packets of sugar before shaking out the contents into her cup. She then succeeded in this action by pouring a packet of creamer into the cup and vigorously stirring it around.  

"This is how I like mine, for future reference." She held up the cup and took a long, satisfying sip before moving to exit the room.  

"What about Lieutenant Anderon's coffee?" 

Charly didn't even turn around. "Black, like his metal." 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

As the duo made their way back to Connor and Anderson's desks, the android's voice piqued up.  

"Where did the Lieutenant go, if you don't mind me asking? He charged after you earlier so..." 

"Hmm? Oh, he came to talk to me on my way to get my firearms issued." 

"I see, how did that go?"  

"Rocky at first but it ended better than I expected. Though we've still got work to do..." Her voice trailed off.  

"Ms. Favreau?" Connor's voice snapped her from her thoughts.  

"Sorry. He offered to send the paperwork down for me and then pick up my firearms. I tried to insist that wasn't standard procedure, but he insisted." She sipped her coffee.  

"Do you have any idea about when he will return?" 

Charly shrugged and took a seat at an empty desk directly across from Connor's. "Depends on office bureaucracy. Though knowing Hank, he'll just threaten his way through all that red tape." Charly finished off her coffee and dropped the empty cup into the waste bin by her chair. "So, how much progress have the two of you made?" 

Connor, somewhat relieved to be discussing the case again, happily complied. "We made one arrest last night. However, it did not yield much information. Some, but not enough to point us in a new direction." 

Charly logged into the terminal. "What happened, exactly?" 

"A deviant murdered his owner over what it claimed to be self-defense. I cornered it the attic of the victim's residence and we brought it in for interrogation." 

Charly frowned. She was somewhat bothered by the fact that Connor referred to his own kind using the word  _it_. "And? Where is he now?" 

" _It_  had its brain scrambled across the interrogation table." A grizzled voice chimed in.  

Charly and Connor saw Hank lumbering his way back into the precinct, a bag secured in his hand. "Here." He placed the bag on Charly's desk. "Holster is in there too." 

"Wow. I'm impressed. What, did you manage to sweet talk your way past Shirley?" 

Hank just scoffed and plopped himself down into his chair. Connor followed and handed him the cup of still warm coffee. "I heard you take it black." 

Hank eyed Charly, who simply winked at him. He groaned but accepted the cup regardless. "Thanks..." He muttered.  

 _ **Hank ^**_ **: _Status Warm_  ** 

Satisfied, Connor returned to his own desk.  

"So, Lieutenant," Charly quickly acclimated to her professional environment. "Can I get a copy of the interrogation footage with the deviant last night?" 

"Really, Favreau? It's in the case folder on your terminal." 

"No, it isn't. I'm looking right at it and there's no video attachment. I also note a few spelling errors in the description here report too. You guys need a better proofreading AI." 

Hank snorted. Clearly, she had picked up on Hank's hasty report filing and was being snarky about it.  

 _This fucking kid..._  

Hank quickly logged into the case folder and uploaded the footage from the security feed. "There, happy?" 

"Thanks, uncle Hank! You're the best!"  

Charly pulled open the video and popped a set of wireless,  Bluetooth headphones into her ears.

 _Let's see what we've got..._  

The interrogation had been brutal.  

It was first relatively tame and meandering, with Hank trying to get the deviant (an HK400 model) to open up about his motivation for killing his owner. However, Hank only lasted a few minutes before storming out in an aggravated huff.  

 _"Fuck it, I'm outta_   _here."_  

The HK400 remained isolated in the room for quite some time. According to the written report, Connor had volunteered after Hank.  As she watched the scene between the two androids play out, she found herself utterly fascinated with Connor's ability to effortlessly play the part of the good cop in contrast to Hank's stereotypical bad cop. It was a balancing act, however, for if the deviant's (again, referring to the written report) stress level became too high, he would self-destruct. Bit of a strange oversight, Charly noted. Connor had to work to stress the deviant out just enough to get him to confess while also not pushing him to self-destruct.  

Charly paused the video and browsed through the suspect's autopsy report. He'd experienced a series of cigarette burns along his left arm. His right arm had been split open due to blunt force trauma with a baseball bat. Her heart sank a little. Much to her uncle's and mother's disapproval, she was much more sympathetic to the plight of androids.  

In the footage, Connor had mentioned that deviancy was simply an error in the android's code. This wasn't the first time she had heard that, but no matter how many times she did, their behavior was still too convincing for her to just write off as some glitch laced within an incredibly advanced AI. But then again, she wasn't an expert. 

Or maybe it was just that Charly was a sucker for a sad face and a sob story. Despite her rough exterior, she was still too much of a bleeding heart for her own good.  

Charly returned to the footage. Connor seemed to be ebbing closer to achieving his goal for a confession.  

 _"I...I don't wanna die."_ Its voice was trembling.  

 _"Then talk to me."_ Connor pleaded.  

Charly felt shivers run up her spine at Connor's words. He seemed so genuine... 

 _"I...I can't."_  He had completely closed up again.  

The suspense of the next few seconds had Charly by the metaphorical balls. Her eyes were practically glued to the screen. Then she abruptly jerked in her seat as the Connor from the footage slammed the folder down on the table.  

 _"28 stab wounds!"_  His once soft, sincere demeanor had now run ice cold.  

Connor's body language had also been displaced and he looked much more rigid now.  

Charly glanced over at Connor, whose hands were idly fiddling with an unknown object in his hand. Hank was hunched over the tablet on his desk. He was browsing for Detroit Gears tickets. It seemed the two were simply idly waiting for Charly to finish watching the footage.  

Charly shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she listened to the audio of Connor verbally castigating the helpless deviant, who begged him to stop. Connor's hands slammed down on the table of the interrogation room before firmly gripping the suspect by his collar, shaking him. Charly's prosthetic fingers dug into the fabric of the armrests beside her. She imagined herself in the deviant's position. She undoubtedly would have caved, just like he had... 

After the deviant gave his chilling confession, Connor asked it another series of questions. Once again, his demeanor had completely changed. He was now completely collected, "ra9. It was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean? And the little statuette? Was it meant to be some kind of offering to ra9?" 

Charly had recalled ra9 being mentioned in the report and waited anxiously for the deviants' response.  

"The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves _._   _No more threats, no more humiliation. We will...be...the masters. Only ra9 can say us..."_   

Another chill ran through her.  _That's...certainly ominous..._  

Connor attempted to probe for more information on the mysterious deity that this deviant clearly worshipped, but it yielded no results.  

"I'm done." Connor's voice seamlessly went icy again. As he got up to leave, his attention was drawn back to the suspect due to a loud bang behind him. The deviant had begun bashing his head on the table. The other officers all rushed in: Gavin, Hank, and Miller. Gavin tried to get Miller to stop the android, but the deviant's strength overpowered him. Connor made a move to intervene, but before he had even taken a step, the deviant gave his head one final launch into the table before falling motionless. As the silence settled, Thirium began pooling around his cybernetic skull and pooling onto the floor.  

Shortly after, the feed cut to black, signaling the end of the video.  

Charly leaned back in her chair and let out a long, lengthy sigh. Her eyes glanced over at Connor again and she was surprised to see him staring back at her.  

"Are you finished, Detective?" His voice was soft and gave the impression he was concerned. Perhaps he had noticed how tense she was? 

Charly pulled her earbuds out and nodded her head. "Yeah, I am..." It really was scary how he was able to imitate human behavior so well. A part of her appreciated the concern, but the other part of her acknowledged that sentiment was artificial. But god damn if it wasn't convincing. "What's up?"  

"I am ready to continue the case if the both of you are." 

Charly nodded and opened up the bag that Hank had placed in front of her earlier. Two standard edition handguns and a brown, leather torso holster. She was about to slip off her jacket to put on the holster when she stopped herself. Her were sleeves rolled up around her elbows and she knew that if she took her jacket off, Hank would see her pearly white appendages. Given how shaky things still were between them, she worried about the shock of seeing non-human looking prostheses would result in another outburst from him.  

"Hey," she started, picking up the bag, "I'm gonna run to the bathroom. That coffee went through me."  

Connor nodded as Charly walked off. The android looked to the Lieutenant on his right, who's hand was tucked against his palm. He looked to be lost in thought.  

Connor opened the master calendar that listed all the major deviant incidents in the order they had occurred. "243 files. First dates back nine months. It all started in Detroit...and quickly spread across the country. An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." 

Connor's words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Hank remained completely uninterested in what his mechanical partner was saying.  

Connor pushed himself up from his rolling chair and stepped around to the Lieutenant's desk, much to the old man chagrin.  

"Oh, Jesus..." He muttered as he grabbed his tablet again.  

"I understand you're facing personal issues. I can't imagine how shocking it must be to have your niece suddenly drop in as she has. But you need to move past these things. Who knows, having Detective Favreau could prove to be beneficial for your relation-" 

"Hey!" Hank interrupted. "Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, ok? And sure as hell not about my god damned niece. If it were up to me, she wouldn't be near any of you. You're all nothing but fuckin' trouble!" 

Connor had had enough. His drive to complete his mission had been put on hold long enough. He leaned down and spoke again, his voice much sterner, "I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant. I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working. Your niece seems much more cooperative about solving this case, so perhaps I shoul-" 

Connor hadn't been given a chance to finish, as Hank had violently gripped the android's polished collar and shoved him into the wall behind them.  

 _ **Hank**_ **V**   **:**  

"Hank!" Charly's voice called out as she came barreling in from the restroom. "What the hell are you doing? Let him go!" She beseeched, placing a firm grip on his shoulder.  

Hank ignored her pleading. He was seeing red. "Listen, asshole. If it was up to me, I'd throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off...or things are gonna get nasty." 

"Hank..." Charly's grip on her uncle's shoulder tightened, which caused the old man to release his grip. "That's enough. There's already been enough property damage today. Let's not add to it, ok?" 

Hank just grumbled another series of trademark curse words before letting go of Connor's collar completely.  

"Uh...Lieutenant?" Charly, Connor, and Hank all turned to face Officer Miller.  

"Hey." Charly waved an awkward hand at him.  

Miller nodded at her, then continued, "Uh...sorry to disturb you. I have some information on the AX400 that killed the guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district.  

 _Ravendale...?_ Charly tilted her head thoughtfully. She recalled Tapper's Pub, on a chilly Tuesday night. Charly and her gal pals had been out for a night of drinking. However, Charly ended up leaving with someone else: Trevor.  

Connor noticed Charly's face had suddenly become flushed and her internal temperature had increased by 3 degrees.  

Hank sighed before shooting a glare at Connor. "I'm on it." He turned and stormed out of the room. 

"Detective Favreau?" Connor re-adjusted his jacket while he spoke.  

"Huh? Uh, yeah?"  

"Shall we?"  

"Sure..." Charly stuffed her hands into her pockets as both she and Connor made their way after Lieutenant Anderson.  

**END OF CHAPTER 2**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that these first two chapters are so long. I'm a writer who likes to focus on character thoughts and interactions. Don't worry, I promise the next chapter will help push the plot a little bit more and will have more action in it. Comments, kudos and subs are greatly appreciated 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charly, Hank and Connor investigate a deviant that is suspected of killing its owner, which ends with the following outcomes: a chase and Hank discovering just what his niece his niece is capable of. Charly is also given a rude greeting from some former coworker...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, chapter 3 is finally done. I am trying to get out as many as possible before I start working again. For those of you who are enjoying my story, I would appreciate comments if you have any feedback for me ^^ Kudos and bookmarks/subs are greatly appreciated. I really wanna hear what people think of my story so far. 
> 
> Also, sorry if my chapters are too long, but I really love writing for this series. I haven't been bitten by the writing bug this bad in a long time c: Please enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Sorry everyone, I made a mistake during my last upload. For some reason, the entirety of the chapter was not posted when I uploaded last night. Sorry about that ^^  
> Second edit: Made a few changes. I wanted to add more dialogue to certain scenes.

CHAPTER 3 

Gray. It was one of her favorite colors. It reminded her of rolling clouds that floated across the sky before a fall rainstorm, of her first pet, an ash colored cat named Soot and her favorite animal, a gray wolf.  

Her eyes rolled over to her withered uncle's mess of hair. She smiled.  

Then there were Trevor Carmichael's eyes.  

After she saw those magnificent silver orbs, all other colors became obsolete by comparison.  

She remembered their first meeting: 9:32 pm on a Tuesday evening. It was girl's night during Charly's first year of college. Legally speaking, she shouldn't have been allowed service...but she had been fortunate enough to have known a person who made pretty convincing fake ID's.  

She pretended to not eavesdrop on the conversation. Trevor and the woman he had been with had gotten into an argument and she stormed out. That's when Charly swooped in. She'd always been drawn to slightly older men. They bonded over a mix of White Russians and film analysis. By 2 am, she was sprawled out naked on his bed.  

During her time in college, she experienced many a drunken hookup and walks of shame. But when Trevor made the conscious choice to look her in the eyes as he made his way inside of her, when she saw the deep, yearning hunger glowing within them...She knew she wouldn't have satisfied with having him just once.  

So, they hooked up a second time.  

A second hook up later turned into 3 more. The third hook up ended up turning into a first date.  

Trevor had been hit with the curse of nausea while they were making out on the couch at 1 in the morning. He immediately shoved Charly off him and bolted to the bathroom. He'd gotten food poisoning from the Chinese Food he had ordered before Charly arrived. Charly ended up driving him to the hospital and when Trevor awake the next morning, he found her asleep beside him in his bed.  

That first date eventually evolved into 5 months, followed by two years.  

Initially, Hank and her mother did not approve, mainly due to the age difference between them. Charly had started dating him at 18. He had been 27. They had a total of 8.5 years between them. Not the most controversial age gap, but given Charly's short stature, she'd sometimes be confused for his little sister, which tended to make some of their dates awkward. But they always laughed it off.  

The night before they broke up, Charly recalled having the best sex of her life. Trevor had always been skeptical about using marijuana. He'd been straight age throughout most of his life, and only really partook in drinking once in a blue moon. But after eating a special cookie that she had made, Trevor's whole body had been sent spinning. Charly hadn't planned on having sex with him, only because she felt it would have been manipulative of her to do so.  

To her surprise, Trevor had initiated. Her legs were hiked up onto his shoulders, their fingers intertwined. She could feel both of their bodies melting into one another as they lost control of their senses. The longer Charly stared into his ashen eyes, the more she seemed to fall.  

Then the next night, she had discovered he'd taken on a job overseas. CyberLife was preparing to open a new corporate headquarters in Japan, China, and South Korea, and Trevor was hired on to help design the models the company would should off to investors. It required Trevor to available on site for an indefinite amount of time. However, Trevor hadn't been the one to end things. He had even offered to bring Charly with him. But to his surprise (and heartbreak), she had been the one to break things off.  

"I'm sorry Trevor...but the idea of moving that far.." The slamming of the front door had cut her off before she had been given a chance to justify her decision. The truth was, Trevor hadn't expected her decline; he didn't know how to cope. The truth was, Charly was anxious about leaving her only family behind. She also still had aspirations of going into law enforcement and didn't feel it was fair for her to put her life on hold for him, especially if he didn't know how long they'd be gone.  

Charly cried herself to sleep for the next few weeks. The last thing she'd see before falling asleep was the look of sexual agony in his eyes when he made love to her that final night.  

"Charlotte..." She heard him whisper.  

"Ms. Charlotte!" 

"Huh?!" Charly jerked her head forward and was met with the thick surface of her uncle's skull. 

"Argh, Jesus Christ! What the hell Charly?!" 

"Ow...!" Charly clutched her forehead.  

"Are the two of you alright?" Charly lowered her hand to see Connor looking at the two of them, his eyes suggesting his concern.  

"Yeah...just fucking peachy," Hank grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "What, did those military monkeys give you a titanium cranium too?" 

"Nah... hard heads just run in our family," Charly smirked as the pain subsided.  

Hank just grumbled as placed his hands back on the steering wheel. "You're lucky that didn't send us flying off the road." 

"Sorry..." She mumbled. "I guess I got spooked. I heard my name and it sounded urgent." 

"I apologize Detective Favreau. We have almost reached our destination." Connor had turned his head back to face the front window of the car. Charly leaned forward and rested her chin on the top of the front seat that separated her from her partners. The sun was starting to peak out from the gray clouds, but it was obvious that the falling rain hadn't concluded just yet. Charly loved this kind of weather, mostly due to the time of year when it arrived. Anytime it rained like this, it almost always ended up snowing shortly after. Charly loved the snow.  

"You ok, kid?" Hank asked. "You look flushed." 

Charly buried her face into the waxy leather seat. "I was dreaming." 

"About?" 

"Nunya." She grumbled.  

"Really Charly?" 

"…. Trevor..." She muttered.  

Hank rolled his eyes and chose to stop the conversation there. Connor on the other hand... 

"Who is Trevor?" The android inquired.  

"Connor, I am ordering you to drop this discussion immediately." 

Charly smirked. Seeing her uncle annoyed over Trevor always managed to amuse her. In truth, it wasn't Trevor's age that had bothered Hank. In Hank's own words during a drunken rant at a family Christmas party, he thought that Trevor was a "smarmy know-it-all cunt." Though he'd been kind enough to make that comment well after Charly and Trevor had broken up.  

"Carmichael. Dr. Trevor Carmichael." 

Connor's eyes fluttered while his LED spun yellow. He recognized the name. It'd been one associated with CyberLife. However, given they were about to arrive at their destination, he thought it best to research this tidbit at a later date.  

Hank spat. "I think I might vomit." 

Charly chuckled to herself. In truth, it was better to think about Trevor in a positive way as opposed to obsessing over the uncertainty of his safety. She'd made attempts to contact him, but all the regular means proved fruitless; his number was disconnected, and his email seemed to have been deactivated. His parents and friends also didn't seem to know his whereabouts. She'd hoped that he'd contact her soon because the waiting was giving her major anxiety. Charly found the ambiguity of the situation terrifying.  

"So, Connor," Charly started, wanting to change the subject. "Why do you think the Deviant in question wanted to come all the way out to Camden? Wouldn't it have been smarter to skip town?" 

"It took the first bus that came along...and stayed at the end of the line." 

 _There was that "it" word again._  

"Hmm...then that suggests the suspect didn't have a game plan, right?" 

"Correct, Detective Favreau. Its decision wasn't planned, it was driven by fear." 

Hank scoffed at the sentiment. "Androids don't feel fear." 

"Deviants do," Connor said, his voice very matter of fact. 

"But...how do you tell? Androids are programmed to imitate humans to near perfection, right? That includes emotions. Where do you draw the line between what's imitation and what's deviancy?" 

"That...definitely a puzzler," Hank responded thoughtfully. 

"It's actually quite simple. In my case, I am simply adapting to the environment humans create for me.  Deviants get overwhelmed by their emotions and make irrational decisions. I can imitate emotions, but it is all for a singular, rational purpose."  

"To complete your mission? To stop deviants?" Charly inquired. 

"Precisely." 

The conversation didn't continue after that. Charly was fascinated in understanding where the line was drawn between deviancy and imitation. However, she decided she'd inquire more with Connor at a later date.  

The gray clouds had once again begun to squeeze out all their captured moisture. The pitter-patter of rain droned on and Charly felt her eyes grow heavy again. However, before her eyes were given the chance to close, they were met with the unsightly glow of a neon sign that signaled their arrival to the sleazy establishment: Eastern Motel.  

"Connor, you stay in the car. Don't need you licking up the crime scene." 

Charly raised an eyebrow at her uncle's strange comment. Before she was given a chance to inquire further, Connor spoke up. "Captain. This is the mission I have been assigned. I don't know how many times I need to remind you. While I am under your direct command, those are overridden if they interfere with my prime directive."  

"Ugh...fine." Hank pushed his door open and was step out when he turned his head to face his niece. "You good? Don't want you falling on your face on your first day back." 

Charly pouted at her uncle. "Ha fucking ha. Considering you’re the alcoholic, I think it's  _you_  we have to be worried about." 

Hank shot Charly a dirty look before exiting the vehicle.  

Charly crawled over the backseat and plopped herself next to Connor. "Don't mind him. Technically speaking, I am also in charge of you, right? Because I give you full leeway to accomplish your mission." 

"I appreciate the sentiment, Detective Favreau. However, my programming permits that Hank is my registered superior. That responsibility will only fall to you if Hank is put out of commission." 

Charly's lips pursed into a pout. "Curses. And here I was gonna ask you to make me a sandwich." 

"I can still comply with that request. As long as you ask nicely. I am nothing but professional. 

Charly smirked and lightly poked the robot in the stomach. "Good to know." 

_** ///// SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ///// ** _

Connor watched the form of Charly slip out on the Lieutenant's side of the vehicle. He was not entirely sure why she had felt the need to poke him. It seemed like an odd means of concluding a conversation. The level of comfort she felt around him was a welcome change from Hank's rougher demeanor. Still, he still found her behavior perplexing, as he struggled to fully rationalize it.  

Charly lightly kicked the water along the cement while making her way up to the door of the motel. However, instead of following her uncle and Connor, she opted instead to stay outside. She didn't see much point in all three of them wandering in to pester the owner.

According to the report they received from dispatch on their way over to the Camden (which was nestled in the heart of the Ravendale District) a convenience store owner claimed to have been robbed by an android the previous night. The officer that took his statement asked to see the security footage and recognized the android as the AX400 that had murdered her owner. Initially, he didn't make the connection. Then he saw the little girl... 

Charly raised her arms above her head, stretching them as far as she could manage. She then reached her leg up against the wall behind her. She figured that if the android was here, there was a very good chance it'd try to make a run for it. Though there was no guarantee the android had even checked-into the motel. A couple of other available officers had been scattered around the district; some were inspecting an abandoned house a few blocks away, others were following a witness testimony that claimed to have seen the deviant near an abandoned car lot. The final pair was checking the security footage of a small laundromat, as it had been reported that the suspect stole clothes from a sleeping patron in the middle of the night.  

Regardless of the outcome of any of these leads, Charly was anticipating the possibility of resistance and/or a chase. It was imperative to stretch before a run.  

As Charly rotated her upper body, she found herself wondering what the outcome of this lead would be. A chase? A red herring? Is someone getting injured? Killed? Another interrogation, perhaps? Charly began to jog in place as she ran over a few possible scenarios in her head. If she wanted to be of any use, she'd have to prepare for anything.  

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"Man, she's so limber, you'd think she was an actual cat." A man sat perched on the ledge above a large brick structure that stood situated behind the rooms of the Eastern Motel. His tiny, snake green eyes held an intense glare as he eyed the prey before him. "Can't wait to skin off the rest of her." 

"Damien." A tired, morose, female voice contrasted his smoother, baritone one. "Haste and precision." 

"Cobra, god damn it." The man said, turning his head over towards the woman behind him. Her head was primarily concealed by a large tangle of long, black hair that hung down to her midback. From where Cobra stood, all he could see of her face was one, soft blue eye staring back at him. "How many times do I have to remind you until you get that through your skull?" He stared down at the woman he towered over at around 6'7". Her head reached around his lower chest. 

"You cold, gorgeous?" His voice had softened as he ran a gloved hand across her face. The woman he referred to shook her head. However, despite this, she lightly pressed her head into his chest, lightly nuzzling it. The only articles of clothing she had on were an old pair of military boots and a dark blue drawstring raincoat. And in all honesty, she didn't even need those. Her body's surface was much colder than the rain that pelted the two figures. It resembled the form and design of your traditional android exo-skin. The primary difference was that hers came with a thin metal coating covering it all from the neck down.  

The man, on the other hand, had a much more elaborate wardrobe. Though it didn't matter. He currently had his camo shield activated. If anyone had been watching the pair, only one of them would have been visible. His outfit consisted of his own pair of military boots, green camouflage pants, a white tank top, and a fur-lined black leather jacket.  

"Just a little longer, alright?" Cobra lightly rubbed his nose into the woman's raven locks. It smelled of rainwater. "Then I'll let you get some sleep." 

The woman merely nodded against him. "Can I see your face?"  

The man simply smirked and cupped the woman's chin in his invisible fingers. As her head was brought up, the man's face came into view. His loose, dirty blonde hair clung tightly to the skin around his head. It had been cut and parted in a way that looked like a loose, blonde mohawk. Like the hair of the woman he was holding, his hair also fell over one of his eyes. 

"Anything for you, babe." He whispered before crashing his lips into hers.   

Again, if someone discovered them, they would have gone into shock over seeing a floating, disembodied face floating in the void.  

While he wanted to taste her lips longer, he knew they had to return attention back to his prey. After pulling away, the shield once again slipped over his face, making himself vanish.  

"Don't worry love. You'll be dead soon enough." 

\--------------------------------------------- 

"Charly, the hell you doin? The manager was given you some weird looks." 

Charly ignored her uncle's remarks as she reached down to touch her toes.  

"I believe she is stretching captain. If the suspect is still here, it could actually prove to be beneficial if a chase ensues." 

Hank just rolled his eyes, walking past his niece to pull out the radio from the patrol car that was parked in front of the hotel check-in.  

"Ben? Come in. This is Lieutenant Anderson, do you read me? Yeah, it's still at the motel. Send in some uniforms and cordon off the area. Detective Favreau and I will be heading up to its room now. Yes, Ben. That Favreau. Ask Fowler. Anderson out." 

Charly launched her arms up above her head for one final stretch. "Ready when you are uncle!" 

As Hank set the radio back in its place, he turned his head to Connor. "You wait in the car." 

Charly sighed. "Hey, uncle. I think you need to save yo-" 

"Can it, Detective Favreau. Or I'll write your ass up." 

 _Oh great. He's in a mood_ _... Charly_  crossed her arm and darted her eyes in the direction of the rooms. As she did, a strange, rippling effect caught her attention. It almost reminded her of a mirage that one might see in the desert after being stranded for 3 days. But she shook it off as a trick of the eye because almost as soon as she noticed it, it was gone.  

Connor spoke with firm directness. "Out of the question. I am coming with you." 

"Listen, I'm tired of you talkin' back to me. You're a machine, so shut the fuck up and do as I say." 

 _Ugh. He sounds like Gavin._ She was tempted to deliver a firm roundhouse to her uncle's head. Despite how much Hank loved to drone on about what a piece of shit Detective Reed was, he could act just like him. 

"All I want is to accomplish my mission. I'm sorry if that upsets you." 

"You know uncle. You should get your head out of your ass and listen to him. The sooner you let him do his job, the sooner he'll be out of your hair. Isn't that what you want?" 

Hank's eye twitched and he turned to address her directly. "Favreau! Last fucking warning or I'm going to throw your ass back in my car!" 

 _Psh_ _...I'd like to see you try..._ Hank had definitely been put in a sour mood by Connor's backtalk and lack of obedience from earlier. Charly hoped he'd relax once they caught the suspect.  

Hank returned his attention back to the insubordinate android in front of him. "You wanna see the end of your mission? Stop bustin' my fucking balls." He spat before walking in the direction of the rooms behind him.  

Charly lightly patted Connor's back, "You don't need me to tell you, but ignore him. Besides, I for one wanna see what you're capable of. I've never seen an android like you in action. I'm excited!" 

Charly shuffled past Connor to catch up with her uncle. Connor stood for a moment, lost in thought. He wasn't sure why, but something about Charly's sincere nature intrigued him. He'd never met a human who offered him genuine kindness and he pondered her motivations. While Connor wanted humans to be, at the very least, cooperative, he didn't have any expectations that it would develop into anything further beyond that. He was built to adapt to the unpredictability of humans, but that was more so when they showed resistance. But in Charly's case, her unpredictability stemmed more so from her earnest cooperation. 

"Connor!" Charly's voice shook him from his thought process. "You coming?" 

Connor nodded and ran to catch up with his two partners.  

As they made their way up the stairs, Charly saw her uncle preemptively pull his gun from his holster and decided to follow his example. She had read the report from the convenience store clerk that had reported on seeing the android the night before. He claimed the suspect robbed him at gunpoint. If the android was still in its room (though Charly suspected the police activity outside the motel had alerted it), it'd most likely still be armed.  

Hank shifted his stance as he raised his gun. He turned his head to both of his partners and pressed his finger to his lips. They both nodded in confirmation.  

Hank placed a steady hand on the knob and slowly made his way inside the room as the door gave way. Charly seamlessly moved around Connor to get in behind her uncle, holding one of her guns out at the ready. She hoped that shouldn't wouldn't have to pull out the second one.   

Charly kneeled down to check under the beds as her uncle made his way to the restroom. When she heard her uncle's more relaxed footsteps, she knew he hadn't found anything.  

"It's gone." Her uncle huffed.  

Charly quickly shot up from the ground. "Well, we can't stand around here. We don't know when it left, so there's a chance it's still in the area." Before her uncle or Connor could make any kind of protest, she was already out the door and made a hasty leap over the second-floor railing.  

"Charly!" Hank called out as his niece vanished, shoving himself past Connor. As he looked down at the first floor below, his niece had already made it back to the other officers who were all crowded around the lobby of the motel. 

Hank gripped the rail in disbelief. She'd only had those limbs for what he had to assume was 2 ½ years. And yet she was already capable of that much?  

"What kind of limbs those military bastards give her...?" Hank blurted out.  

"Your niece is quite bold," Connor commented.  

Hank just turned his head and glowered at the android before aggressively storming back down the stairs after his niece.  

Charly ran up two of the officers who were assigned to keep watch outside of the motel. "Inform dispatch to send out the headshot of the suspect to all available units in the area. Also, be sure to tell them the suspect has a little girl with them so that they don't go out shooting some random AX400 unit. The last thing we want to deal with is someone filing a report against the DPD for property damage." 

One of the officers nodded and relayed the instructions over his walkie-talkie. 

Charly turned her attention back to her uncle who had appeared back outside the hotel lobby, a disapproving look cemented on his face. However, before Hank could get a word in, they were alerted to call from a fellow officer slightly further down the street. Before Charly had the chance to turn back around, Connor darted past her at lightning speed and she felt a sharp breeze tickle her face.  

"Which way did it go?" Connor asked.  

The officer in question pointed down the block. "That way. They're head for the train station!" 

Charly, still somewhat shaken with how fast Connor had moved, was slightly delayed in her reaction to chase after Connor and the suspect. She was about to step forward when her uncle's voice stopped her. 

"Favreau! Stay put! Let the robot handle this!" 

"But uncle-" 

"What did I tell you about talking back?" Hank crossed his arms as he stared down at his niece, who met his gaze with equal ferocity. She could tell he was still having trouble accepting Charly's prosthetics and their capabilities. It'd probably like whiplash for him, since the last time he saw her, she was a broken, bandaged husk on a hospital bed.  

But Charly couldn't abide by standing still when there was a criminal catch. Her fingers twitched as her eyes looked back to her uncle and Connor's distance. When the android and the deviant were no longer in sight, she broke up into a sprint, the sound of her uncle's angry voice being drowned out by the torrent of rain.  

About 20 meters down the street, another officer came into view, but he didn't see her, as his attention was drawn down the alleyway in front of him. Charly's feet made a hard twist right and she could once again see Connor in her line of sight. As she sprinted closer, she saw that he was pressed up against a fire fence. The deviant had made her way over it and was now gunning it towards the highway.  

Another officer made his way up behind Charly, gun prepared to fire.  

"Don't shoot," Connor ordered. "We need it alive!" 

Charly once again found herself wincing at Connor's use of the word "it".  

"Connor, we can't just sit here!" Charly said, her voice determined. "We need to go after them. " 

Charly gripped the fence when she was stopped by the sound of her uncle swearing as he appeared beside them.  

"Oh fuck! That's insane..." He leaned down to catch his breath as he eyed the two escaping suspects beyond the fence.  

Charly returned her attention back down towards the busy cement highway below. The android gently gripped the child's wrist before rushing the two into the street. She let out a sharp inhale as they narrowly dodged an oncoming car.  

Connor gripped the fence and was about to climb when Hank's firm grasp stopped him. "Hey, where you goin'?" 

"I can't let them get away." Connor's voice was stern and focused. 

"They won't. They'll never make it to the other side. 

"Jesus Christ!" Charly yelled. "Hank, we need to get down there. They'll...That girl will be killed. You want that on your hands?" 

Hank was about to send his niece a slew of threats and insults when Connor made another attempt to climb the fence.  

"I can't take that chance, Lieutenant." 

Hank's hand once again held Connor back. "Hey! You will get yourself killed! Do NOT go after em' Connor, that's an order!" 

But Hank's commands fell on deaf ears as the android effortlessly ripped himself away from his superior.  

 **_/////SOFTWARE INSTABILITY_ ** **V** **_///// HANK_ ** **V**  

"Connor, god damn it!" 

Charly inhaled sharply as Connor jumped from atop the fence, only to release it when he successfully hit the ground and began to slide down the muddy hill in the suspect's direction.  

"Fuckin' androids!" Hank's voice indicated his exasperation and he pounded his fists into the fence.  

Charly could feel the anxiety bubbling in her stomach as Connor made his way over the guardrail. The moment he narrowly avoided getting hit by a speeding vehicle was the moment when Charly threw off her trench coat, her brown leather gloves following thereafter.  

"What the hell...?" Hank shot his niece a confused look as she tossed her effects in his direction. Much like how it had this morning, Hank's jaw was once again on the ground. Before he was able to process the flash of black and white, his niece had gripped the top of the fence and had completely thrown herself over it. Hank had expected to see a pair of arms that identically matched Charly's skin tone. For a split second, he thought she was another android. But when he heard something along the lines of, "Sorry uncle!", his denial was broken: the accident had happened. Charly really had really vanished. She really did have prosthetic limbs.  

Hank just stood dumbfounded as his two partners scurried across the busy street.  

Charly's feet only made contact with the ground for a fraction of a second before she made a mad dash down the muddy incline. Upon lunging over the metal railing, she steadied herself.  

 _Need to time this..._  

She leaped forward with agile precision as her hands gripped the surface of the car that sped by her, her body flipping over it. As she landed, her feet perfectly positioned themselves within the narrow space that separated the lanes. Hank stared in complete disbelief as his niece effortlessly navigated her way around the oncoming vehicles; diving, jumping, flipping...She moved with meticulous reflexes and disciplined speed.  

After making her away over the second railing, she saw that Connor had made contact with the deviant and was fighting to restrain it, while also trying to avoid getting slammed into by oncoming traffic. However, the female android managed to knock Connor backward into an oncoming car. While it didn't run him over, the impact of it grazing past his chest was enough to knock him over onto his backside.  

"Connor!" Charly darted across the illuminated street and grabbed ahold of the android's collar as he stood up off the ground. She pulled him back over the glowing blue guard rail behind them and they toppled to the ground.  

"Ow..." Charly groaned as she felt the android's full weight upon her. Connor was heavier than he looked. 

Connor was immediately up again and scanned his eyes across the street. He could no longer see the suspects. 

"Shit," he muttered defeatedly. As he turned to thank Charly for her assistance, she'd already bounded over the railing a second time. Connor's expression, much like Hank's, was floored by both her agility and her appearance. The black and white of her arms were hazy, but he could clearly identify them as being robotic in nature. Now he knew why she had wanted to use the restroom before they had left the station. He had known earlier that she had been lying about needing to use it (given her heat signatures had shifted dramatically which implied she was nervous) but couldn't fully ascertain her motivation. But now he was certain; she had wanted to hide her robotic-looking prosthetics from Hank. But that led to another question to appear in his mind: Why? 

"Detective Favreau!" He called out.  

Charly looked behind her to see Connor staring at her. Once again, she was amazed by how authentic his programming was. He almost looked concerned for her safety. But Charly just shrugged it off.  

 _I can still catch them..._  

Charly was only one more lane away from successfully reaching the other side. Unfortunately, there was also an oncoming convoy of delivery trucks that would make it nearly impossible for her to find an opening.  

Nearly being the keyword. 

Charly squatted down before suddenly leaping up, the momentum from her legs sending upward. She then sent her legs out and landed directly on top of one of the trucks, her hands positioned on either side to help steady herself. However, she only remained there for the briefest of seconds before lunging herself forward. As she descended, she reached her arms out in front of her. As soon as they made contact with the muddy ground, she tucked into a roll. She scanned the road where the AX400 had vanished and bolted left to follow after them towards the station.  

But as Charly's legs left leg pushed out in front of her, she was suddenly sent tumbling forward, landing face first into the mud. As she wiped the watery earth from her eyes, she found herself unable to mentally command her foot to push her back up. Charly rolled over onto her back and looked down at her feet: there appeared to be a large gash in her prosthetic Achilles tendon.  

"Shit..." She cursed as she pulled her foot closer to examine it. The slice had cut clean through her boot as well, and she could see the metal tendons jutting out of the mechanical incision. Charly quickly shuffled around inside her pocket for her nanite gel. She still had some on her person when she arrived at the hospital and whoever had found her in Trevor's office hadn't confiscated it. The microscopic crawlers in the tube secreted a liquid sealant that would patch up any minor damage. Though she had to be sparing with it; she didn't know how to go about asking for more.  

But as her fingers gripped the soft tube, her attention fell on a set of sharp, lime green eyes that had suddenly manifested before her. The eyes were slowly followed by a face which held a manic grin, one that Charly recognized all too well. It's why she was so petrified with fear as the man's camo shield completely dissipated and was replaced by his imposing figure.  

"Hey there, Lynx. Long time no see you miss me?" He stood casually with his hands in his pocket and one foot tucked behind the other. However, even in such a lackadaisical stance, Charly was still hopelessly terrified of her former comrade. She'd seen him tear men apart like tissue paper.  

Charly's lower lip quivered as she began to scoot herself backward, away from her assailant. "Hey Ghost, I think she's scared of me!"  

To his left, she could see what looked to be a faint shimmer. She realized it was the same glint she had seen on that brick structure above the motel. They had been there the whole time; watching...waiting. Charly knew Ghost wouldn't reveal herself. She only did that for Cobra.  

"Cobra..." Charly breathed. "I...I thought." She was met with a sharp pain that shot through her skull. As she clutched her head, her vision began to go hazy as the electronic blue film began to fizzle over her eyes, followed a bizarre burst of warmth that swelled within her abdomen. She was suddenly overcome with the urge to leap up and tackle her former teammate, wanting nothing more to rip him to pieces. But the moment she tried, her severed tendon dragged her back down into the mud.  

Cobra cackled. "What's the matter, kitty cat? Did you not stretch enough? You got yourself a cramp?" 

\------------------------------------------------------------ 

Connor saw the man appear out of what seemed to be thin air. He hadn't seen what had caused Charly's fall but assumed it was the man that stood before her. Connor identified the subject as hostile.  

When his eyes scanned over to the figure of his female partner, he saw the faint glow of the wound in her heel. He questioned whether it was imperative for him to assist her, at least as far as his mission was concerned. But then he saw the look of abject terror in her Charlotte's eyes. At that moment, he was overcome by some strange force he couldn't comprehend. All he knew was that this invisible hand pushed him forward, back into the fray of traffic, to save his partner.  

Charly looked up at the man known only as Cobra, her once amber eyes now a deep burning red.  

"Ah. There it is. I missed that. Not a single person I've killed has ever had that murderous intent. They all just look shocked or surprised...But not you Lynx. You've got that stubborn drive. I just wanna see it drain from your eyes." He slowly began to make his way forward, his metal hands slowly exiting the warmth of his pockets, fists fully clenched. 

However, before he made it far, he stopped in his tracks by the bullet that narrowly whizzed past his nose. He turned his head to the right and was met with a male android aiming a freshly fired pistol in his firm hands. 

"Put your hands up and step away from Officer Favreau! This is your final warning!" 

Cobra was about to step towards Connor when a series of hushed whispers began to fill the air around them. If Connor had goosebumps, he would have felt them spread across his skin.  

"Oh, come on Ghost! She's right here, I-" his voice was cut off by another set of whispering, however this time they sounded much more impatient.  

"Alright. Fine. You're right. Can't have another heard of rats biting at our heels." He turned to look back to Charly, her eyes still scorching. She was already on her knees again, about to make a second attempt to charge him. But in the blink of an eye, Cobra became enveloped in a clear shimmer.  

With concern overcoming his curiosity, he quickly kneeled to Charly's side. Her face was completely drenched in mud and her face seemed to be lost in a daze.  

"Detective Favreau?" He lightly shook her shoulders. No response. She looked to almost be in some catatonic state. "Charlotte!"  

The sound of her full name snapped her from the trance. "Huh? What? Connor? What are yo-" Her eyes quickly darted around her surroundings. "Where did he go?" Her voice was frantic.  

"They're gone, detective." 

Charly's eyes met with Connor's. He saw the fear slowly melt from them and she moved into a sitting position.  

"Did you know that man?"  

Charly stayed silent as she squeezed the light blue gel on both her exposed tendon and the outer layer of her prosthesis.   

"Ms. Favreau?" She continued to remain silent and stood up, Connor following alongside her. The android then reached out his hand to clasp one of hers, his other gently pressing supporting her back. The gesture initially caught Charly off guard, but it allowed her to slowly gauge how much weight to put on her foot.  

"Thanks..." She muttered.  

"And thank you. I would have been crushed if you hadn't pulled me away from that truck..." 

When Charly was certain she could walk again without issue, she pulled herself away from his grasp and proceeded to wipe the mud from her coat and face. 

"Why are you thanking me? Wouldn't they have just replaced you? 

"Yes...but it would have delayed my mission. Given how time sensitive this case is, I would like it to be solved without CyberLife having to send in another model. You saving me was actually preferable for the purpose of mission efficiency." 

Charly blinked and scratched her head sheepishly. He seemed genuinely grateful.  _Damn, these things are so fucking convincing._  

"Don't mention it..." 

"Now, Detective. I must ask you again. Did you know that man?" 

Charly peered past Connor to see that her uncle was no longer against the fence on the opposite end of the highway. As she was about to call her uncle's absence to Connor's attention, she heard his voice holler down at them from atop the stone wall beside them.  

"Charly!" Hank looked down at the duo below, red and blue flashing behind him. His face was plastered with an angry look.  

Charly was under the impression it was because they had failed to catch the deviant, thus also losing a kidnapped child in the process. In truth, however, Hank's bitter resentment towards his niece's secrecy was once again boiling back up to the surface.  

"There are some stairs down that away," He pointed to his right. "We'll unlock the gate at the top. Get a move on, the both of you!" He quickly moved from the fence, returning to the cars behind him.  

Charly hastily shuffled past Connor, digging her hands into her pockets.  

"Detective-" 

"Connor. I have an order for you. And it won't interfere with your mission, so you have to follow it." 

Connor's body stiffened. "From the looks of things, I don't think uncle Hank saw our vanishing friend. I want to make sure he doesn't find out." 

"Charlotte...I must remind you. I only follow orders given by your uncle. 

She stopped in her tracks and whirled around to face him. "Please Connor? Just humor me, please? It would just make him worry. Then he'd find a way to get me kicked off. I'd never hear the end of it.  I don't want him obsessing over my well-being. Look, if I see that guy again, I'll take care of him, so he doesn't interfere, alright?" 

After a moment of contemplation, Connor nodded in agreement. "Understood Detective." 

Charly let out a sigh of relief before moving to walk towards the stairs again."Thank you, Connor. I plan to explain everything to him...Just not right now."  

Connor stared at Charly for a long while before following behind her. He once again found his interest in Charlotte Favreau piqued. With every new piece of information, he discovered, the deeper he wanted to dive. Just how far did this rabbit hole go? 

END OF CHAPTER 3 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor briefs Amanda on his progress on the case so far while also trying to piece together Charly's past. But for what reason, he doesn't entirely know. Is it simply the curious nature of his programming? Or possibly something more impassioned driving his need for answers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much shorter in contrast to what I've done so far. I am actually tempted to go back and shorten my existing writings and split them up into shorter chapters. If you think this is a good idea, please let me know in the comments :). Also, sorry if things aren't as action heavy so far (save from previous chapter), but I promise it will pick up soon! For those who are reading and enjoying my work, your support is greatly appreciated ^^ Next chapter is already underway, so stay tuned.

CHAPTER 4 

The ride back to the precinct was a mostly quiet one, with the exception being Hank trying to press both of them about what happened.  No matter how much he hassled the two of them, Connor repeatedly took the blame for the deviant's escape. But Hank wasn't entirely convinced. 

"I was careless. Detective Favreau kept me from being run over by a large vehicle. By the time we had reached the other side, both the suspect and the child were gone." 

"And how the hell did you get covered in mud Charly?" I saw how you moved across that highway. You really expect me to buy that you just...tripped?"  

"Yes, Hank. When I saw that the suspects had gotten away...I guess I got too relaxed. I lost my footing coming over that last rail..."  

"Hmph...if you say so." He muttered. He was still highly suspicious, but figured neither would cave to his questioning so he decided to effectively drop the subject altogether. 

The trio spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon finishing up their accounts of the incident in the case report.  

Charly leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms over her head immediately after she finished typing the last sentence of her report. "Finally!" 

Hank shot up out of his chair. "Well, I'm gonna head to Jimmy's for lunch. It's happy hour right now." 

Charly pursed her lips together. "Need some company? I could use a drink." 

"I think you should probably get cleaned up first." Hank chided her.  

Charly looked down at her clothes; they were still thoroughly caked in earth, which had now completely dried. "Oh. Shit." 

"Besides, I need to do some thinking. I doubt we'll make any more progress today so I'm gonna call it an early day." 

"But Lieutenant, what if something comes up again? Timeliness is key."  Connor spoke up.

"You'll know where to find me, then!" He shouted before disappearing through the glass sliding doors.  

Charly leaned her head on her prosthetic hand. Now that her uncle had seen them, there was no point in trying to hide them. Though she was shot a couple of perplexed looks when she reappeared back in the precinct.  

"What are you going to do for the rest of the day, Connor?" 

"I will probably continue to see if I can find any leads we can follow. But before that, I need to send an update to CyberLife." 

"Hmmm..." She stared at him for a few moments, pondering the proposition she was about to make. "Can it wait a few hours?" 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The female android's eyes remained focused on the monitor in front of her as she eyed the previously recorded footage. 

"Were we expecting her to come into contact with them so quickly?" A disembodied female voice asked, her voice echoing through the pearly white office room.  

The android's piercing blue eyes stayed fixed to the screen. "We anticipated it, but the chances seemed unlikely." 

"Next time, I would suggest that you activate her adrenaline protocol  _before_ she gets injured. It will keep her on high alert." The android could tell the voice was not the least bit pleased with how Charly's encounter had turned out.  

"Understood. Though should we be concerned about her partnership with the HK400? She seems to be too friendly with him. It could create instability." 

"Connor is the most advanced android CyberLife has ever developed. I assure you, he will _not_ succumb to deviancy." 

"Very good, ma'am. At what point will you require me to intervene?" 

"Only in the case of an emergency." 

"And what exactly constitutes an emergency?" 

"I will let you decide that, Colette. I trust your judgment." 

"Thank you for your vote of confidence." 

"Keep me updated on any changes." 

"Of course." 

The MR600's LED spun from yellow back to it’s a neutral blue as it disconnected the call.  

After a few clicks of her keyboard, the android was once again presented with Charly's point of view as it appeared on the monitor.  

\--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Connor's eyes were met with the tranquility of the Zen Garden that became laid out before him. The immaculately constructed interface seamlessly manifested itself in place of the Detroit Precinct. The luscious greenery and cool blue waters that framed the delicate landscape contrasted the dull, gray hue that made up the police station. The garden, was, for lack of a better term, perfect. 

"Connor," a gentle but commanding voice spoke up. "So glad of you to join me." 

Connor's curious brown eyes fell upon the figure of his handler, Amanda, who was delicately stirring a small spoon around in a hand-painted ceramic cup.  

"Hello, Amanda." Connor's lip twitched into a subtle smile as Amanda took a long, satisfied sip. Connor was somewhat perplexed by the action, seeing as how she wasn't ingesting actual tea. He assumed it was for the purpose of instilling a calming, serene atmosphere.  

"It seems you failed to capture the deviant." She lowered her cup and shot the android subordinate a disappointed eye. "Care to explain what happened?" 

 **_//////Amanda_ ** **V** **_///////_ **  

"The traffic proved to be more difficult to maneuver than I had anticipated." 

"And do you know where you went wrong?"  

"I believe I was too hasty when I made the decision to halt the suspect before making it across the freeway." 

"You see, Connor. That's what makes your model so...exceptional. You can pinpoint exactly when a mistake was made and use it to correct any future predicaments you might face. That's something even most humans can't manage. It's what makes deviants so dangerous. They are incapable of being self-reflective. They operate with a complete disregard of how their actions will or have impacted others. Their systems are unable to correct themselves. But you, Connor. Your systems have the ability to take this idea of hindsight and use it to make you more prepared." 

"I only hope that I am able to live up to your expectations, Amanda." 

Amanda leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms across her lap. "Yes, well...while I understand that mistakes are part of developing your adaptability, the chances of them happening were calculated to be incredibly slim." 

Connor stiffened. "However," she continued, "this is a very minor setback. Your success with the hostage situation back in August coupled with the accomplishment of garnering a confession from the deviant last night really makes this mistake quite minute. It doesn't overshadow your achievements. I am also thankful we haven't had to replace you during your mission thus far. However, a mistake, no matter how minimal, is still a mistake. You understand, don't you Connor?" 

"Yes, ma'am. I assure yo-" 

Amanda raised her hands in protest. "Words are hollow Connor. Prove your commitment with your actions."

"Of course." He once again offered a faint smile before reaching over to pick up the small teapot that was in the center of the small table. "Would you like another cup, Amanda?" 

Amanda nodded her head. "Why yes, thank you, Connor." Connor reached over, delicately grasped the handle of the fragile cup and began to slowly pour the hot liquid into it. "So, Connor. I am curious." 

"About what, ma'am?" He reached for the sugar bowl and released two spoonfuls of the white substance into the cup, making sure to thoroughly stir it.  

"What are your thoughts on your new partner, Detective Favreau? I know her joining you and the Lieutenant was quite unexpected."

Connor's stirring of the sugar slowed as he pondered Amanda's question. Connor wasn't entirely sure how to answer. On the one hand, he found himself deeply intrigued by all of the cloudy information that surrounded her. There were threads that connected her to the United States Military.

But Charly also had had a relationship with a former CyberLife employee, and thus she also became tethered her to Connor's manufacturer. The android was of the belief that this was not merely a coincidence. To him, the roots that connected Charly and Cyberlife ran incredibly deep.

\--------------------------------------------------

Before Connor had contacted Amanda, he decided to perform a little investigative work on his second partner while she was out.  

 _"Here's the address",_ she stuck a blue sticky note on his desk. _"I'll meet you there after I go get some new clothes. I don't live too far from the station, so I'll be back in about an hour. Feel free to get us a table if you get there before me!"_

Charly had insisted Connor come with him to get lunch at her favorite café, which was close to the station. Charly mentioned spending many a lunch break there back when she had been an officer. 

 _"I know you don't eat but...I'd like the company."_  

Connor had accepted without a second thought. He saw it as an opportunity to get to know his new partner. Once again, his justification for this was for the security of his mission. Given she had already come to his rescue twice (and him returning the favor one time already), it was clear the path they were on would prove to be beneficial for him.  

Once Charly had vanished beyond the glass sliding doors, he began to run through all the information he had gathered about her up to that point.

For a majority of that information, however, he was slammed with a series of dead ends.  

Any information about Charly after her accident mostly consisted of a single news story on a police blog and a few discussion board posts that were mired in speculation and conspiracy theories. Some believed that Charly had actually died, and people wanted it covered up, though, for what reason, no one could really discern. Others were under the impression she was part of some secret CyberLife project given she had dated a former employee of the company.  

Before the accident didn't yield much progress either. He found a few photos of Charly with Trevor at a few CyberLife events, but nothing more substantial between the two.  

Oddly enough, digging into Trevor proved to be somewhat more lucrative, given his high profile friendship with Kamski. Trevor had worked for The Android Design and Development Division when Kamski founded CyberLife. While Kamski had been responsible for developing the intricate and sophisticated AI for androids as well as the life-giving elixir known as Thirium, his friend had developed the first prototype shell for the code and blue blood to inhabit.  

However, when Kamski ultimately left CyberLife, he took a lot of his power with him. The new board members didn't treat Trevor with the same level of respect his former colleague had garnered.  

But that never seemed to bother Trevor. In interviews with both men, general audiences seemed to interpret them in the following way; Kamski's ambitions were more so driven by his ego and fascination with developing life. This contrasted Trevor's goals, which stemmed from his altruistic desire to help humanity.  

But when it came to the bigwigs upstairs, they cared more about acclimating more dollar signs than using technology for the betterment of mankind. That was why it had taken Trevor's pet project so long to get off the ground. And why it had been snuffed out almost entirely.  

After Kamski's departure, Trevor would try (and fail) to appeal to the board about his wanting to start a prosthetics division within CyberLife. The board members, who never bothered to meet in person, instead opted to communicate via video call. Given they also rejected Trevor's request, they saw no point in humoring Trevor with an in-person meeting.

But over time, after years of countless rejections, the board eventually approved his request. However, the specifics of his project were left cursory. There only existed a small, one paragraph vision statement. In it, mentioned wanting to use prosthetics to provide veteran and disability aid, among other things. There was even a mention of using prosthetics to help animals.  

But that vision statement was the only real concrete information Connor could find on the project. Given that Trevor had been filed as missing coupled with no one else replacing him as the department's director, led Connor to the conclusion that the project had been terminated. But if that was the case...why was it still listed within CyberLife's main directory? If it no longer existed, why hadn't it been completely removed? 

The more Connor searched for answers, the more questions he'd find himself with.   

What made things more complicated was that any information about what happened during Charly's 3-year absence had either been rendered inaccessible or had a majority of information redacted.  

Only one thing had been made certain for Connor: there was information within CyberLife's databases that linked Charly (and her work with the United States Military) with CyberLife. If there hadn’t been, he wouldn't have received the alerts of his denial to access restricted information.  

But this fact tickled something else within Connor's neural circuitry; the unshakable belief that there was something about Charly that was familiar to him. Now that he was certain that there was a definitive connecting thread between Charly and CyberLife, he knew that at some point, he'd have to unravel it.  

However, the only way he'd be able to access any of those files would be to hack into CyberLife's mainframe and bypass whatever blocked him from delving deeper. It was certainly feasible, but he presumed that such action would result in him being severely reprimanded and possibly deactivated (and effectively replaced) for his clear insubordination.  

He concluded the only way to gather more information would ask Charly directly. But given all of the legal red tape, he knew that'd be equally as challenging — if less consequential— for him.  

Still, despite the roadblocks, Connor was adamant about solving the mysterious puzzle that surrounded Charlotte Favreau.  

\------------------------------------------------------------------ 

"Connor," Amanda's voice forcefully jerked him from his thoughts. "You don't want the tea to get cold now, do you?" 

"Of course not. I apologize." 

"You still haven't answered my question." 

Connor reached for the creamer and poured a teaspoon of milk into the brown, semisweet mixture. "Charlotte...I mean Detective Favreau," he once again began to swirl the tea around with the spoon. "I will admit, I am relieved to have her complete cooperation. It's a welcome change from what Lieutenant Anderson has afforded me. I also believe, that despite this being our first meeting, she has placed some semblance of trust in me." 

He casually slipped the cup over to Amanda's side of the table. His handler eyed him before taking a slow, deliberate sip. However, she did not comment on its quality. "And why do you think that is Connor?" 

"I think..." Connor felt his artificial muscles tighten in both his arms and legs followed by his internal temperature spiking by one full degree. However, it only lasted a fraction of a second before his systems regulated again. He did not want Amanda to suspect his intrigue, as she would most likely scold him for being distracted from his mission. She had disapproved of his investment in the Lieutenant, so he imagined she'd only scold him for taking interest in another human. He doubted she'd be at all convinced by the rationale for his curiosity.  

"I think a culmination of factors are responsible for Ms. Favreau's behavior around me. One is that she did, in fact, deal with a great amount of physical trauma, which I can only conclude also had an effect on her mental state. Though to what degree, I can't fully ascertain." His eyes remained focused and unblinking.  

Amanda waved her hand, motioning him to continue.  

"Second is that she didn't exactly receive the best welcome upon her return to the precinct. People have questions. They can see she isn't the same person she was when she left. Lieutenant Anderson clearly holds bitter feelings towards his niece. Things have changed for her and I imagine she wants to find some stability to latch onto. She can't seem to find that with her coworkers or her uncle, as all they have are questions. And finally, as you said, I am the most advanced model CyberLife has ever created. It seems only logical that distinction would make me beneficial for aiding in the emotional health of others." 

"And you don't have questions?"  

"Perhaps one or two, but nothing that I have any intention of pursuing. My mission comes first Amanda." 

Amanda smiled and sipped her tea again. "Very well, Connor. I trust your judgment. I expect you will use both of them to their fullest potential. Especially Ms. Favreau. Her skills could prove useful. They definitely have so far. However, it's clear that she has some secrets surrounding her, so be sure not to get too wrapped up in it Connor. Make sure that you focus ONLY on your mission." 

Connor nodded his head "Affirmative, ma'am." 

"Very good then. You are dismissed..." 

"Thank you. Until next tim-" 

"Connor, before you go," She raised her hand in protest. "I'd like to offer a small suggestion." 

"Of course." 

"While I did quite enjoy the tea, I much prefer it with honey and a dash of mint. Just so you know for next time." 

"My apologies ma'am. I promise to make it to your liking next time." 

Connor closed his eyes and the LED on his head shifted from blue to yellow. As the virtual landscape began to vanish around him, he contemplated the reason he had made the tea the way he had.  

Then the revelation struck him like a bolt of lightning.  

 _"This is how I like mine, for future reference."_  

Her name blinked into his thoughts... Charly _._  

 **_/////SOFTWARE_ ** **_INSTABILITY ^_ ****_/_** ** _////_ **  

While his partners' preferences (as far as he knew) for drinks only applied to coffee, he couldn't help but be perplexed by what compelled him to mix in all of her favorites into Amanda's drink. Was it because that was the only preference he had — other than Hank's— available in his memory banks? Had it been purely coincidental?  

In any case, he had hoped Amanda would just brush it off. He did not want her to develop any more reservations about Connor's performance as an advanced prototype. A spider web thin line had already begun to surface. Connor was determined to make sure it did not grow any larger.  

When Connor opened his eyes again, he was once again met with the cold corners and muted grays of the Detroit Police Department.  

According to his internal clock, he had 20 minutes until his meeting with Charlotte at the café, which was approximately 12 minutes and 35 seconds away, granted there was no traffic or major construction. 

He stood up from his seat, adjusted his tie and made his way out the door. 

\------------------------------------------------------------- 

The MR600's LED spun from blue to yellow as she connected the call.  

"Colette. Please keep me updated on the interactions between Connor and Detective Favreau. It's probably nothing, but I want to make sure he remains focused on his mission." Her imposing voice once again resonated throughout the room.  

"Of course, Amanda. I will alert you if any concerns arise." The android complied.  

"Very good." 

The call hastily disconnected.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Charlotte meet up for lunch and take time to get to know one another better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also won't be as long as some of my previous ones. Next chapter will hopefully be posted tomorrow :) I still haven't gotten any comments yet and would really appreciate your feedback/thoughts. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 5 

The weather had lightened significantly from the raging storm that had occupied it earlier that afternoon. Connor had arrived 5 minutes before their scheduled meet up. The sign read in Black and White: Del Rey Café. However, the manager of the café had a strict no android policy, claiming it was bad for business. Connor, not wanting to spur more conflict, idly waited on the sidewalk for Charly to arrive.  

"Hey, Connor!" He turned his head to see the form of Charly making her way towards him. Her attire was much more vibrant this time around, greatly contrasting the muted shades she had worn before. The only aspect of her outfit that was similar was her boots. Everything above that was different. She wore wine red leggings and a long sleeve gray plaid shirt. It hung loosely on her petite torso and the cut of the shoulders led Connor to conclude it was a men's shirt. The sleeves extended beyond her wrists and covered the bulk of her cybernetic hand. She was also not wearing gloves this time either. Whether it was work or pleasure, Charly seemed to enjoy clothes that allowed her a full range of mobility.  

"Hope you haven't been waiting long. I'm so sorry, I completely forgot the café's opinion on androids..." 

"I only arrived moments ago. And please, think nothing of it. You haven't been here since the accident, correct?" 

She nodded. "Yeah. But we can go someplace else..." 

"Leave it to me." He quickly turned and waltzed back up to the hostess who was positioned at the entrance. At first, she tried to usher him away by threatening to call her manager. But then Connor pulled out a crisp, $100 from his pocket and casually sliding it towards her. She exchanged a series of blinks between the green bill and the android in front of her before slipping it into her blouse pocket.  

"Please," she chimed, grabbing a menu from the stack in her podium. "Follow me." 

Connor turned his head and nodded at her to follow. Charly, albeit awed by how effortlessly the android operated, happily followed him.    
The two were seated in a snug corner of the café's outdoor patio. Given that the rain had ceased, the sun had begun to creep through the flurry of clouds. The light radiated a soft, comforting glow.  

Charly and Connor remained quiet for some time. Connor did not wish to disturb her as she tried to peruse the menu, trying to discern which meal she was most excited to try again. To help kill time, Connor pulled his trademark coin from his pocket and began to propel it between his nimble fingers.  

Charly, intrigued by the subtle ringing noise the coin was making, looked up. "What're you doing?" 

"Calibrating my cognitive and physical reactions. The coin helps keeps my reflexes sharp." 

Charly chuckled, finding the whole affair quite amusing. "It almost sounds like CyberLife's most advanced android has the equivalent of a nervous tick." 

"There is nothing nervous about my actions, Ms. Favreau. While I can convince others that I possess emotions, I assure you, all of my behaviors are purely rational." 

"Huh..." was all she said before returning her eyes back to the menu. She then raised her hand to flag down a server, who nervously moved over to the two.  

"Um...excuse me, ma'am. The café—" The man stuttered out, fumbling with the notepad and pen in his hands.  

Charly flashed her badge. "Surely you can overlook it just this once. I'm more than willing to talk to your employer if he needs persuasion." 

"No need, ma'am. I'd hate to cause any trouble...what can I get you?" 

"Can I get a cup of jasmine tea and a cheesesteak panini?"  

The waiter quickly scribbled down the order, swiped the menu off the table and returned inside in a flash. 

After the waiter was gone, Charly leaned her chin on her left hand. "So, Connor...What are your thoughts on my uncle? I'm surprised the Fowler assigned the two of you to work together. He's...rough around the edges, you know? But you're way more sophisticated. It's like dropping an obedient dog in a room with a cantankerous old cat." 

"He's certainly proving himself to be quite the challenge. Though I should note we have only been working together for about two days." 

"Wait really? Huh. Well, no wonder he's in a mood." She laughed heartily. "My uncle has never been good at adapting to change..." 

"Here is your tea ma'am." The waiter had returned with a metal tray, upon which set a small ceramic tea set. After placing it on the table, he began to pour the hot liquid into her cup, causing a thin array of steam to billow upwards. "Do you need anything else?" 

Charly shook her head and the waiter had vanished again.  

"Ms. Favreau, I-" 

"No need to be so formal Connor." 

"I apologize, but one of my primary features is my unyielding civility. It makes dealing with humans much easier. At least, to a point." 

Charly began to mix her preferred amount of sugar and crème into her tea. As she did, Connor's LED spun. 

 _So, she prefers her tea the same way she likes her coffee..._  

"Like when you're interrogating deviants?" 

"Exactly." 

After stirring her tea, she took a delicate sip, a smile curling on her lips as she did. "You're pretty convincing. I wouldn't be surprised if CyberLife decided to start investing in android actors." 

"I don’t follow, Ms..." 

"Connor, what did I just say?" 

"Well, what would you prefer I call you?" 

Charly lowered her cup and met his pondering gaze. "What do you prefer?"  

"I don't have any preferences, per se..." 

"Well, what sounds better to you? Scientifically speaking, what name just tickles your mechanical ear canal?" 

"I suppose...Charlotte." 

Charly smirked and took another sip from her cup. "Anyway, what I mean is, is that you're so convincing. I know you say it's all advanced programming but...I don't know. How do you know when those emotions, those feelings have become authentic?" 

"It's quite simple, really. You may be convinced that my inflections, my actions, my words are legitimate, but it is actually just an incredibly advanced AI code. It can perfectly adapt and create and imitate all human behaviors. At least, as long as it reminds in line with my mission to hunt deviants. I know these behaviors are not my own, whereas as a deviant would believe the opposite. The error in a deviant's coding makes it impossible to differentiate their scripts from what they believe to be their individuality." 

"So, if a deviant claimed they loved someone, to you, it's just an error in their code? But for the deviant, they mistake those errors as real because their programming has tricked itself into believing just that? Am I close?" 

"That is exactly correct, Ms. Fav- Charlotte. I'm impressed." 

"Well, I did use to date a CyberLife employee. I picked up on a few things." 

"Did you ever visit their main headquarters?" 

"You mean that ungodly eye-sore of a tower? Yeah. A couple of times, usually with Trevor." 

"Ah. That's the name you mentioned in the car, is it not?" 

"Yeah. But I get the feeling you already know all about that." She winked at him. "My uncle warned me you had a tendency to snoop." 

"Well, I...I feel it is only natural to want to learn all you can about the people you work with, wouldn't you say?" 

"Fair enough. All for the mission, right? So, is there anything you wanna know? Though be mindful, there are some things that are off limits. You understand, right?" 

"Of course. I would hate for you to get into trouble on my account." 

"Excuse me, pardon my interruption," the soft voice of the waiter halted the conversation, his delicate hands placing the plate in front of her.  

"Oh man, I miss that smell..." Charly was practically drooling.  

"Is there anything else I can get you?"  

"Yeah, actually. Can I get a banana and Nutella crepe? And make it to go." 

"Certainly, ma'am."   

As the waiter vanished back inside the establish, Connor spoke up. "When you first arrived, I will admit I was curious. But I am built for the purpose of investigation, so that isn't really all that surprising." 

"So you  _did_  snoop." Charly shot him an amused grin. 

Connor ignored it and moved on with his question. "Your mother was never married. Why did she change her name to Favreau?" 

Charly was just about to dive mouth first into her sandwich when Connor's question stopped her. She hadn't been expecting such a personal question. "I uh...It's complicated. My mom...well she had a falling out with my grandmother. To this day I still don't know what happened between them. I only ever saw my grandmother once. When was I like...5 or 6? But all I know is that my mom didn't want to wear the Anderson name after what her mom did." 

"Did you ever think to ask your uncle?" 

"Yeah, but I decided against. If my mom felt it was important for me to know, she would have told me." 

"Interesting. We have that in common, then." 

"Huh? How do you figure?" 

"You only feel it is necessary to acquire information if its vital for your existence, correct?" 

"I mean, I guess? It's more so that I respected my mother's business. My mom worked a lot and was usually pretty frazzled. I didn't want to give her another thing to stress out about. I hate making others worry.'" 

 _I see. Maybe that’s another reason why she's so cooperative with me. She doesn't like being a burden to others. She much prefers being helpful._  

**_/////_   _S_ _OFTWARE INSTABILITY^^_   _///// Charlotte^_**

"Your selflessness is certainly commendable, Charlotte." Connor's synthetic lips twitched into a subtle smile.  

Charly laughed. "Thanks. I try. Though remember, despite the Favreau name, I still have that hardboiled Anderson blood pumping through my veins. Sometimes I can fuck things up." 

As Charly dug her hungry maw into the helpless sandwich in front of her, Connor broke the short silence between them. "Why did that man attack you this afternoon?" 

Charly chewed slowly and deliberately, trying to formulate an answer. He had actually asked the perfect question. It didn't reveal any sensitive information and merely relied on Charly's interpretation of the incident.  

"I...I don't know. But he looked bitter, angry. Though for what reason I don't know." That wasn't a total lie. She actually didn't know what compelled her former comrades had decided to come after her. During their work together, while Charly felt intimidated by Cobra's (she never learned his real name) bloodthirsty demeanor, he was impassioned in his belief that the work the trio did was for the greater good. In the case of Ghost, once she had been given access to the camo-shield, it remained permanently activated. Unless, however, she was in the presence of Cobra alone.  

Charly had only seen her once, but even then she was obscured by the bulking form of Cobra's forearms. She only saw a tangle of black hair and a fully mechanical body.  

Much like her complete appearance, Ghost's motivation was entirely unknown to Charly. She only seemed interested in following Cobra around, as the two frequently teamed up together during assignments, often leaving Charly to work by herself.  

That work being; aiding the United States Military in the elimination of minor terrorist groups that resided within the African continent.  

"And what do you think caused him to flee? He had you right where he wanted you." 

"I think..." Charly recalled the odd whispering noises that had replaced Ghost's voice. Her cybernetic body had been equipped with a voice modulator, which she could use to replicate or distort her own voice. Snake, for some unknown reason, was the only one able to understand Ghost.  

Trevor initially had not been able to get his prosthetic project off of the ground. The main reason being that CyberLife did not want to invest money into a project they felt they would get little return on. But through the grapevine, the project had caught the attention of  Miranda Castaneda, the Chief of Staff for the United States Army. Intrigued that the project could prove lucrative for the advancement of the United States military, she agreed to funnel Trevor the funds he needed to start his project.  

But the operation proved to have disastrous effects.  

At least, from what information Charly was actually capable of recalling.  

After she had awakened and moved back into her childhood home, she found herself struggling to remember certain parts of her employment. She could recall the basics; she would get briefed on her team's objective, they'd be dropped into some undisclosed location, take out their target (though in a lot of the cases, there was more than one) and then return home to do it all over again. But she found there were huge gaps in between. She couldn't remember any specific details of the locations she had been to or the people she and her team had slain. The guilt from all of those atrocities still resonated within her, and yet she couldn't pinpoint a specific crime she had committed.  

Charly wasn't a therapist, but her best guess was that she had repressed the trauma. Or CyberLife and the U.S. Military had found a way to fuck with her memories to ensure she could never testify against them.  

And knowing the depths the company was willing to sink to, she believed heavily in the latter than the former.  

"Charlotte?" 

Charly had gotten lost in space again. "Sorry, my mind tends to wonder." 

"I'm not boring you with my company, am I?" 

"Oh no! Not at all. I just feel weird I guess, trying to readjust. But you know the saying, Rome wasn't built in a day, right?" 

Connor searched up the phrase. "Indeed. All good things come in time, Charly." 

 _Huh._ _So he does understand figurative language after all..._  

"Charlotte, I have a request I would like to make." 

Charly took another hearty bite of her panini and washed it down with a swig of her tea. "I'm all ears." 

"The next time this nefarious individual makes contact with you, I would like to assist you in taking him out." 

"Connor, now hol-." 

"His interference could cause problems for this case, and that is something I cannot abide by that." 

"But I-." 

"It's either you allow me to assist you, or I report the incident to the Lieutenant and have you effectively removed from the DPD." 

"What the hell, Connor?!" Charly bolted from her chair and stared angrily down at him, her hands firmly pressed into the table.  

Charly had caught other restaurant patrons and pedestrians send disapproving glares her way. But she had done her best to ignore them, wanting to enjoy both her meal and Connor's company. However, her outburst caused those same people to avert their gazes, for fear of further pissing her off.  

"You can't expect me to agree to that! What if you get yourself killed?" 

"Charlotte," Connor crossed his arms, his calm chocolate eyes firmly meeting her fiery ones. "As has been mentioned, if I am destroyed, CyberLife will simply send a replacement. But there is no replacing a human life. Your cooperation and physical talents have proved to be very helpful thus far, and I would like to continue working with you." 

Charly looked down and let out a sigh. "So you can finish your mission?" 

"Yes." 

Charly slumped back down into her seat. "But you still plan on keeping this guy a secret from Hank, right?" 

"Just as long as that information doesn't interfere with the deviant investigation." 

"Well, given how much I hate sitting still...I have no choice but to agree." 

"Thank you for your cooperation, Charlotte." 

Charly didn't respond further and opted to raise her hand instead, signaling the waiter for the check.  

When Charly paid and received her to-go back with her crepe, she and Charly promptly left the restaurant.  

"Well," she started, readjusting the purse hanging from her shoulder. "Despite that downer ending, I actually quite enjoyed myself." 

"I concur. This was quite an invigorating experience. I do hope we get to do it again soon." 

"Yeah...I'd like that." She tilted her head slightly to the side, causing a loose strand to fall over her eye.  

"Would you li-."  

"Oh my god, Charlotte! Charlotte is that you!?" 

Connor's LED rapidly spun yellow, being placed on high alert as an unknown figure flung her arms around Charlotte's shoulders. 

"Ahh! Jesus Christ! I need an adult!" Upon hearing the cleary sarcastic tone in Charly's voice, his LED gradually shifting back to blue.  

The woman in question was slightly taller than Charly. She possessed a sparkling set of emerald green eyes and curly strawberry blonde hair tied into a tight ponytail. Her outfit consisted of a long pair of tan slacks, a white dress shirt, a dark blue cardigan and a set of black wedges. As she pulled away from Charlotte, Connor could see she was holding a brown disposable coffee cup and an authentic leather purse. This woman was clearly a professional of some sort, given the business casual nature of her outfit.  

"Are you calling me a child?" The woman demanded. 

"I'm not  _not_ calling you that..." Charlotte shot the blonde woman a cheeky grin. 

"I almost didn't believe it when I saw you. After the accident...I thought-." 

"You thought I was dead? Yeah, I've been getting a lot of that today." She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. 

"Well, it was the only thing that made any sense! Hank wouldn't answer any of my calls. His voice mail message is super pervy, by the way." 

"Yeah, well, you know Hank." 

"If I did, he would have told me you were alive!" 

"Well, to be fair to him, he didn't know until this morning..." 

The woman's jaw dropped. "What?! Charlotte Nadine Favreau, where the hell have you been?!" 

"I...I can't tell you, Myra. I want to. But legally speaking, I really, really, really can't." 

The woman—who Connor learned was named Myra—crossed her arms and pouted.  

"That's so unfair." 

"I know. Hank doesn't like it either." 

"Fair en-." Myra's attention was suddenly pulled away when she finally acknowledged the presence of Connor. "Is...is this robot with you?" She pointed a confused finger in Connor's direction.  

"Yeah. I'm back working with the DPD. This is Connor, my partner. Well, not just mine. I'm working with Hank too." 

"Well, aren't you lucky." She blurted out. "I know they make robots to be as perfect as possible but...this guy is something else." 

Connor blinked at Myra, unphased by the woman's clear attraction to him. "Thank you for the compliment." He reached a steady hand out. "A pleasure to meet you." 

"Oh, he's charming to boot. Color me green because I am jealous." Myra giggled and eagerly shook Connor's hand. "I'm Myra. Myra Collins." 

"Easy girl. He's not built for that kind of thing." Charly playfully chided.  

"Oh please. I bet you could attach one no problem." Myra playfully nudged Charly's ribs.  

Charly rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it was great seeing you, but I need to get going. I have an early day tomorrow."  

"Oh come on! I haven't seen you in three years! We have so much catching up to do!" 

"I know, I know. And I want to. But I'm in the middle of a really important case, so I have to remain on high alert." 

Myra let out a defeated sigh. "Alright...but the moment you get any free time, you call me!" She demanded as she slipped a business card into Charly's breast pocket. "Ok? I've missed you..." 

"I will, I promise." Charly brought Myra in for a long-awaited embrace. 

As the two women departed, Connor quickly ran Myra's name through his database. She currently worked as a payroll administrator for Channel 16 studios and according to her fairly open social media accounts, had been Charly's best friend since high school.  

When Myra was out of sight, Charly examined the card between her delicate fingers. "Huh. Payroll Administrator? Looks like she's been doing well for herself..." 

"When is the last time you saw her?" Connor asked.  

"Not since before the accident..." She looked at Connor thoughtfully. "I think I'm gonna call it a day and head home early." She started off down the street. "You have my number right? Ring me if anything comes up!" 

"Wait, would you like me to call you a cab home?" 

"Huh? No, I... I'll walk home. I've got a lot to think about! And I wanna be alone with my thoughts. Helps my brain stay focused." 

"Are you sure? I don't mind walking you home. What if that man attacks you again?" 

 _Shit._ He had a point. But she really did want to be alone... 

"I got your number from Hank, so I'll call you if he does!" She yelled back at him as she continued on her way.  

But before Connor could protest, she was already out of sight.   

**End of Chapter 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a dull morning and afternoon of no leads, Hank decides to shuffle on over to his favorite eatery for lunch. While there, Hank and Connor engage in conversation, the android still adamant about trying to connect with him. However, unbeknownst to the naive android, his immaculate behavior is beginning to have an effect on Charly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Another Chapter done! I know, it's not super exciting, but it'll pick up again soon, I swear! I should note, however, I will be returning to work soon (I work full time as a teacher) so I probably won't be able to post as frequently in the coming months. That being said, I really enjoy writing this story and I wanna see it through to its conclusion :) Thank you!

Charly awoke to the horrible blaring of her alarm clock as it alerted to the time. As she opened her eyes, she was met with the fuzzy blue overlay. She honestly hated this worse than her regular alarm. This thing made it seem like the buzzing was manifesting within her own skull. It made her tempted to rip the prosthetic eyes out of her sockets. 

She sat up and blinked her eyes twice to make the dreadful sound cease. 

Before Charly's accident, she always made it a priority to go on a run first thing in the morning. It started during her first year of college. Before, she had relied on track to keep her shape. But after, she opted to establish a routine that would help her get out of bed every morning. Charly didn't necessarily hate getting up early, but sometimes it was hard to fight the motivation to hit the snooze button on her alarm. But running was her solution to that. She especially loved running in cold weather. 

As Charly zipped up her sweater, a small puff of mist escaping her pink lips. Most people she knew much preferred running in hot conditions, as they burned off more calories that way. But Charly hated the heat. It just made her cranky and lethargic. Charly's philosophy was that it was easier to warm up in the cold than it was to cool down in the heat. 

Running always seemed to set Charly's world at ease. Initially, she thought of running with her new cybernetic limbs would have been incredibly awkward. Fortunately, the opposite turned out to be true. Even though they didn't match her skin, the natural and fluid motion of her prosthetics often caused Charly to forget they were even mechanical. 

Charly ran a total of 3 miles.

When she returned home, she quickly showered and then hailed a cab to the precinct. She opted to wear a pair of black, slim fitting jeans, a white button-up blouse (no tie this time) and a burgundy coaches' jacket. She was also wearing the same pair of boots from the previous day. As she walked out the door towards the awaiting taxi, she pushed her hair into a loose, over-the-shoulder ponytail. 

When she finally arrived at work, the time was 7:45 am. As she passed through the glass doors, she eyed Connor diligently typing away on his computer. He was so focused on the contents of the screen, that he hadn't noticed his female partner walk in. Charly stared at him a moment, her arms crossed. 

_I wonder where he stayed..._

But then Charly remembered that Androids didn't need sleep. He probably had returned to the station after Charly had gone home. She assumed he had just nestled himself back in his chair and placed himself in standby mode for the rest of the evening. 

"Good morning, Connor!" She greeted, waving at him. 

_**/////Charlotte: Status: Friendly/////** _

Connor's eyes shot up from his monitor and he waved back. "Good morning, Charlo—Detective Favreau. 

_He always missteps when it comes to my name. It's kind of cute._

Charly plopped down into her chair and casually rested her boots on her desk. "So, my uncle in yet?" 

Connor gave her an irreverent look. It was almost as if he was saying "You should know the answer to that question." 

"Ugh sorry, stupid question." Charly readjusted herself to sit properly in her chair. "Any updates on the case so far?" 

"Not at the moment. I'm currently combing through all of the existing information to see if I can find any sort of major link between the cases. So far, I have had no luck. Any similarities between them are purely circumstantial." 

"I see..." Charly let out a hearty yawn. 

"Would you like me to fetch you some coffee, Detective?" 

"Oh, that'd be lovely. Thanks, Connor." 

Connor simply nodded his head at Charly before making his way over to the break room. 

Hank didn't end up showing up to work until about noon. He shuffled tiredly to his desk. Charly saw that his eyes were bloodshot, and he had horrible circles under his eyelids. 

"Baggage claim for Hank Anderson!" Charly called out mockingly to her uncle. 

Hank, however, said nothing. Instead, he shot his niece a murderous scowl. Charly felt a chill run through her spine. 

_I feel like he just walked on my grave..._

"Good morning Lieutenant." Connor's voice piped up as he approached his superior, holding up a fresh, steaming hot cup of black coffee. Hank snatched the cup without a word, downed it and then tossed the cup empty cup over his shoulder, where it missed the wastebasket. 

Connor blinked as Lieutenant Anderson dropped down into his seat. 

"Well," Charly started, "Back to work?" 

Charlotte and Connor labored away for the next few hours; scanning through all the information they had been provided. Hank, on the other hand, spent that time with his head buried in his arms and his headphones over his ears. It was obvious by his demeanor that he had one hell of a hangover. As Charly logged out of her terminal, she stared thoughtfully at her uncle. 

It seemed he was still processing the emotional whiplash he was experiencing. He hadn't spoken a word to her since he entered the precinct. Charly felt a heavy pang of guilt overwhelm her stomach. She knew eventually he'd work up the nerve to bring up the subject of her prosthetics (namely their design, she imagined), and she was anxiously waiting for him to get it over with. 

At around 2:30 pm, Hank shot up out of his chair and lumbered towards the glass sliding doors that led back outside. 

"Uncle," Charly called out. "Where are you going?" 

"Food." Was all he uttered before vanishing. 

\------------------------------------------------------------- 

Charly was once again nestled up to her knees within the tight confines of her uncle's backseat. Hank had decided to drive to his favorite food truck establishment, Chicken Feed, for lunch. He had a hankering (pun intended) for his favorite hangover cure; a large Coke and a double bacon cheeseburger. Personally, given how more health conscious his niece was (at least to an extent. She still enjoyed a good burger), she was never too keen on eating at Gary's cooking, even she was a child. Or stoned. Now that told you something about the quality of the food in question if a resident stoner wouldn’t touch it. 

When they pulled up, the sky was an ashen gray and heavy raindrops pelted the car like a flurry of gunfire. 

Hank looked over at his niece through his rearview mirror before grumbling. "You comin'?" 

"Nah...I'll stay in the car. You know I hate Gary's cooking." Charly said, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

"Your loss. You." He turned his head to Connor. "Stay in the car." As soon as the words left his mouth, he was out of the car in a flash. He was so determined to get his mitts on one of Gary's C grade-cheeseburgers, he almost didn't notice the oncoming taxi to his right. 

"Woah. Hey! Hey! Hey!" He exclaimed, holding his hands out in front of him before shuffling past the car to the large food truck on the other side of the street. 

The car had been parked across the street, but it was still close enough to hear Gary greet her uncle. 

"Hey, Hank. How' you doing?" 

"Eh, you know, same old shit." 

"Hmm..." Charly caught Gary staring in her and Connor's general direction. "The plastic with you?" He eyed Connor from behind the counter of the food truck. Then his eyes fell upon Charly. 

"Only temporary," Hank muttered. 

"And what about the cutie in the back seat?" 

Hank shot Gary an annoyed glare. "That's my niece, ass hole." 

"Oh shit, Charly's back in town? I thought she'd kicked the bucket." 

"So, did I buddy. So, did I." He turned his head briefly back to look at his niece, who shot him a peace sign. "I'll have the usual." 

Unsurprising to Charly, Connor did not remain in the car for long.  _Maybe my puppy analogy was more apt than I thought..._  

Charly let out an amused sigh before slipping out of the car directly behind Connor, slamming the door on her way out. 

As the two casually made their way to the other side of the street, Hank was approached by another person that Charly didn't recognize. 

"Hey, hey, hey...Hank!" The guy wrapped his arm around Hank's shoulder in a sideways hug. "How you doin' man?" 

"¡Ese" Hank responded by grabbing his hand and pulling him in to give him a pat on the back. "Same shit, different day, you know? How about you?"

"I'm good. I'm good. It's great to see you but uh... " He stopped and darted his head around nervously. "Listen, I got a shit-hot tip for you. Number five in the third...Lickity-split man! I’m tellin' you, that filly is one hell of a chaser. So whatta say, man? You wanna flutter?" 

Charly's brow furrowed as she put two and two together. Her uncle was engaging in illegal gambling. 

_He sure found some interesting ways to occupy himself since I've been gone..._

Hank sighed before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "The last shit-hot tip you gave me set me back a week's wages, Pedro." 

 _Yes, uncle. It's almost like gambling has consequences and you shouldn't be irresponsible with your money._  

Pedro casually leaned his arms back against the counter of the food truck and scoffed over Hank's lack of faith in him. "Psh. Come on man, this is different, it's %100 guaranteed. You can't go wrong!" 

Charly bit down on her tongue. She knew that if she said something, it'd probably scare the guy off runnin' with piss running down his leg. But at the same time, while she didn't like this scum fuck, she also didn't wanna further dampen Hank's sour mood. He would definitely chew her out if she spoke out of turn again. 

Charly shifted her attention the android to the left. His LED spun yellow in his temple. That, coupled with the stern, unmoving look on his face, led Charly to assume he was collecting data about their current location and the new figures that had entered it. 

"Heh. Alright. I'm in!" Hank chuckled and pulled out a wad of cash before proceeding to slap it into Padre's hand. 

"Damn straight! Hey, you won't regret this!" Padro gave Hank a friendly fist bump before shuffling past him. Before departing completely, he stopped directly in front of Charly and eyed her from head to toe.   
Charly responded by crossing her arms and gave Pedro a glare similar to the one her uncle had shared with her earlier that afternoon. Pedro, however, seemed unphased and merely winked at the woman before bolting down into the darkness beyond the overpass. 

Connor's eyes remained glued to Charly as she attempted to dissuade Pedro from starring at her. While the steely look on her face was meant to intimidate the man, she simply did not exude the confidence to make such a look believable. It's why Pedro hadn't been the least bit phased. He'd also probably experienced death glares before and was simply immune to their effects. 

But Connor could tell the experience made Charly feel a touch uncomfortable. Her heat levels consistently spiked whenever she was anxious. 

"You seem perturbed, detective," Connor asked, his voice perfectly mimicking the inflections of concern. For some reason, it made Charly shiver. Damn it. He was so good at faking it that she'd continue to forget he was even a robot. 

"Nah...I'm fine. Water off ducks' back, you know?" Charly hastily glided over to stand to her uncle's left. 

Connor, noticing that her temperature had dropped back to normal, nodded in approval. He then waltzed over to stand to the right of Hank, hands crossed studiously behind his back. Hank glowered at the robot, clearly annoyed that Connor had disobeyed him again. 

"What is your problem? Don't you ever do as your told?" Connor remained silent and only stared innocently at the grumpy detective. "Look, you don't have to follow me around like a poodle!" 

Charly snickered internally. _Guess I'm not the only one who mistook him for a lost puppy._

"Hey, Gary. You're certainly a sight for sore eyes," Charlotte spoke up, wanting to be polite. "Could I get a small Sprite?" She plopped $2 onto the counter. Gary took the money, slipped Charly her change and immediately handed her the beverage. "Thanks." 

As Charly casually drank up the cool liquid, she leaned forward slightly to get a glimpse at Connor. He was staring straight ahead, lost in his thoughts. He seemed to be pondering the appropriate response to Hank's chiding. 

"Listen, Lieutenant." His voice became soft and apologetic. "I think our relationship got off on the wrong foot. We should...forget what happened...and start over. What do you say?" He shot Connor a sincere, friendly smile. 

It took every ounce of strength within Charly to not let out a corny "Aaaaaawwwwww" at Connor's attempts to reconcile with her uncle. _Bless his heart, he is trying..._

But once again, his attempts at being amicable were met with hostility. "Look, they sent me a piece of plastic for a partner and I'm dealing with it. But if you think we're gonna be buddies, you're as stupid as you look." 

Charly frowned. Despite knowing Connor didn't feel offended over her uncle's derogatory way of addressing him, something about it still irked her. She saw no reason to be so rude to someone who was just trying to be cordial. 

Connor, not knowing when to quit (much to Hank's annoyance), spoke up again. "Listen...I'm sorry for my behavior at the police station. I know that didn't soften your opinion of me, but I didn't mean to be unpleasant." 

 _God damn it. Smooth as silk._ She wasn't sure why but she was once again met with the sensation of chills running up her spine. She wanted the meet the person who installed Connor with such a silver tongue. 

Hank just shook his head. "Oh wow. You've even got a brow-nosing apology program!" 

**_/////Hank ^: Status: Warm/////_ **

Hank crossed his arms and chuckled quietly to himself. In the corner of his eye, he could make out the black digits on Charly's right hand. It was still going to take him time to get used to the fact that she was back. It'd take even longer to accept the fact that she now had robotic limbs. He theorized that those limbs (as well as Trevor) were connected to the work she had done for the U.S. Military. And given that Trevor had worked for CyberLife, he wondered if he had been the one responsible for her getting such advanced extremities.

"Guys as CyberLife thought of everything, huh?" Hank grumbled. 

Charly walked past both Connor and Hank in the direction of one of the empty standing tables. The smell of Gary's cooking was starting to make her nauseous. 

"Ah, thanks Gary, I'm starving." 

"And hungover..." Charly muttered snidely to herself as she sipped her Sprite. 

"Hey!" Gary's voice called out as Hank followed behind his niece. "Don't leave that thing, here!" 

"Ass hole..." Charly unconsciously bit into her straw. 

"Hah, not a chance! Follows me everywhere..." Immediately as those words left his mouth, Connor trailed obediently behind him. "See?" 

Connor nonchalantly leaned forward to cross his arms above the plastic table. For a few moments, the only sounds were that of the falling rain, Gary's awful music and the quiet murmurs of the few other patrons that were scattered around the empty lot. 

Eventually, Connor broke the silence. "So, this Pedro fellow...He was proposing illegal gambling, am I right?" 

Hank took a second hearty bite from his burger and abruptly swallowed it as Connor's voice interrupted him from his enjoyment of the silence. "Yeah." He nodded. 

"And you made a bet?" 

"Yeah." 

"I see." 

"Yeah, can't wait to see that blow up in your face a second time..." 

"Favreau, you're outta line." He said, taking another bite of his meaty sandwich. 

Charly proceeded to take another sip of her soda before offering another remark. "I don't get why you like eating at this dump Hank. That C rating...Part of me is worried this soda here is going to make me die of dysentery!" She shook the plastic cup frantically in her hand. 

Before Hank could offer any retort, Connor interrupted him, attempting to quell the possibility of the two arguing. "Do you come here often?" 

"I don't. Can't stand the place." Charly punctuated the sentence with an aggressive slurp through her straw. "But he does." 

"Yep. Most days...Gary makes the best burgers in Detroit." 

"Only if you like your burgers with salmonella..." 

Charly wasn't sure if Hank had heard the remark or if he had just chosen to ignore it

"Hank, I do not mean to alarm you but...your meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories and twice the cholesterol level." 

Hank briefly eyed the burger in his hands warily before promptly stuffing another bite into his waiting mouth. 

"I really must insist, Lieutenant. For the betterment of your health, you shouldn't eat that." 

"I agree. I think I need to start bringing you lunch again." Charly said. 

Hank simply shrugged the two of them off. "Everybody's gotta die of something." 

The callous tone of acceptance in his voice made Charly wince ever so slightly. 

Connor once again aimed to change the subject to keep the conversation (despite how awkward it was) going. "Lieutenant, I don't want to alarm you but...I think your friends are engaged in illegal activities." 

"Well, everybody does what they have to, to get by...As long as they aren't hurtin' anybody, I don't bother 'em." 

/////Hank: ^ Status: Friendly/////

Charly stirred the straw around in the nearly emptied cup. She pondered her uncle's philosophy and found herself agreeing with it. Detroit always had a reputation for being a tough city to live in. The economy had always been in the dire straits and the recent implementation of androids into the workforce didn't help things. While androids were indeed innovative, they indirectly caused a rapid spike in the state's already high unemployment rate. While Charly didn't fully concede with the notion of aggressively blaming robots, she also found herself sympathizing with the families that had been negatively impacted by the changes. 

Charly eyed Connor as he contemplated Hanks' words. However, as she attempted to take another sip, she caught something that made her mouth go too far down onto the straw, causing it lightly jab the roof of her mouth. While Connor might not have realized it, he had performed (at least in Charly's mind) the third most titillating thing a man could do to get her gears greased: Connor had thoughtfully bit the corner of his lip.

She recalled all of the times Trevor had done that as a means to get her motor running. Though that hadn't been his only technique...

 _Shit_ , she cursed internally, trying to play off her mishap. _Damn it. What the hell is wrong with me?_

"So, lieutenant, detective...is there anything the either of you two would like to know about me?" 

Before Charly could speak up, her uncle interjected rudely. "Hell no." However, he quickly stopped himself. "Well, yeah, um...Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?" 

 _Hmph...I don't think it's goofy at all..._ Charly thought to herself. She wondered if she was about to start her time of the month. She was feeling particularly catty this afternoon.

"CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration." 

Hank knowingly nodded his head. "Well, they fucked up." 

"Ignore him, Connor. I think your voice sounds perfectly fine. In fact, I think it's more pleasant than some other people I could think of. I have this one old, grumpy coworker. Man, his voice is so grating it feels like someone is rubbing sandpaper against my eardrums." 

"I think I'm going to vomit," Hank growled as he took an angry sip of his soda. "Do me a favor, would you Charlotte? Keep it in your pants." 

The boldness of Hanks' curt response was enough to make Charly take another anxious chomp out of her straw. While initially tempted to fire back, she didn't want to escalate things and risk further humiliation. She was glad it was gloomy out because she could feel her face become flushed. 

Connor once again felt the spike in temperature. It seemed her uncle had succeeded in embarrassing her. Though Connor was confused as to why she'd had such a reaction in the first place. 

"Anyway...Lieutenant, there's something that's been nagging at me. Yesterday, when officer Favreau and I were in pursuit of those deviants...Why didn't you want me to cross the highway?" 

"Because you could have been killed!" Hank's response was almost instantaneous. Either he anticipated this question and had a predisposed response or...he was genuinely surprised that Connor would have asked such a question. 

"And uh..." There was hesitation in his voice. "I don't like filling out paperwork for damaged equipment." 

Charly raised a suspicious eyebrow. It seemed that while Hank didn't want to admit it, he had actually somewhat softened up to the obedient android. 

"Can I ask you a personal question lieutenant? Why do you hate androids so much?" 

Hank gave Connor a long, sullen glare before finally answering, "I have my reasons." 

_Much like his niece, Hank is also a bit of a labyrinth..._

Charly knew the reason. But it was one she didn't find herself agreeing with. In fact, she thought it was blatantly irrational. But Hank had come to his conclusion on Androids immediately after Cole's death. He was in grief and placed the blame on the first thing his wounded soul clung to. Before his son was taken from him, Hank had been relatively indifferent towards androids; didn't care about their mistreatment but didn't go out of his way to be verbally abusive towards them. 

_Not like how he does now..._

Charly, on the other hand, found herself feeling much more sympathetic towards the robots. She still didn't fully comprehend deviancy, but she always felt an uncomfortable pinch in her gut whenever she saw androids being abused. If they didn't mirror humans so perfectly, she probably wouldn't have given those piles of circuits a second thought. But after seeing some of the assembly and testing processes during her brief time at CyberLife, she found herself developing a deeper appreciation for the complex nature of their existence.  

"And what about you, Detective Favreau? What are your opinions on androids?" 

"Well, I know a lot of people have problems with them. And to an extent, I see why people are upset. I really do. A lot of people are out of work. But that's innovation for you, you know? I'm kind of torn on the issue but...I still don't necessarily like how some people treat androids. I wouldn't call myself an advocate or anything, but I think there are more reasonable ways to go about dealing with them. I don’t know. I'm kind of on the fence..."  

Both Connor's LED and eyes blinked rapidly, indicating he had logged both Hank's and Charly's responses into his personal database.  

Charly laid her hand on her cheek, shaking the chunks of ice around in her cup. _I wonder what sort of things Connor has written about me in that electronic brain of his..._ Charly considered asking him but decided to wait until later when Hank wasn't around. If there was anything unfavorable about her rummaging through his head, Hank would probably get defensive on behalf of his niece and try to clock him in the nose. 

There was another long period of unbroken silence between the three. 

 "Can I ask you something, Connor?" Charly finally spoke up.  

"Of course, Detective." 

"Is there anything about humans you find particularly interesting?" 

He blinked. "I don't follow. Could you be more specific?" 

"Like, anything about our culture, behavior...that sort of thing." 

"Hmm...I do find myself drawn to humanity's more mysterious aspects." Hank and Charlotte both exchanged confused looks. "What I mean is, some humans are open books. They are bold and aren't afraid to tell people what they think or how they feel. But then you find other, more private humans who are so tightly wound, that you would need a very powerful set of hands to pull them open. And when I become aware of something a human doesn't feel comfortable sharing, while I will respect their wishes, I can't help wanting to learn the truth. Does that make sense?" 

"Sort of. I'd say I'm the same way when it comes to understanding Deviants...I wanna understand. I know what I've been told, but I've never had the chance to sit down and talk to one before, you know? I think it'd be a good learning experience, at least as far as the investigation is concerned." 

"Well, then sunshine," Hank's voice interjected. "The next time we get one in the hot seat, you can have dibs on the interrogation." 

"Speaking of deviants, perhaps I should tell you what we know about them?" 

"You read my mind," Hank said, popping a loose pickle into his mouth. "Proceed." 

"We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids, which can lead to them emulating human emotion." 

Hank, not fully grasping the concept, dismissively waved his hand, "In English, please." 

Charly rolled her eyes at her uncle. "I understand perfectly well. It's like...CyberLife treats deviancy like a sickness.  Androids gaining emotions is similar to them having some sort of psychotic break...They only act that way because of the scrambled signals in their brains. It's kind of like how humans treat mental disorders. Like schizophrenia and shit like that...am I understanding that right? Or am I way off?"

**_/////Charlotte ^/////_ **

Connor didn't respond at first. He was impressed with how Charlotte interpreted the information. She was incredibly perceptive.

"It more so lies in the coding of the android's AI. But I suppose it could be comparable to something like a virus or an illness within their cognitive functions."

"The only thing that sounds weird is...mutation? Wouldn't that require organic tissue? I didn't know hardware could develop mutations." 

"Like I said, Detective, this what experts at CyberLife believe. A lot of the testing surrounding the study of deviants have proven to be inconclusive." 

"Are you two done with your academic powwow? Some of us would like to know what the hell is going on." Hank shot an accusatory look at his niece, which caused her to shift uncomfortably. He was making a jab at her over the fact that the two still hadn't really had the chance to discuss anything since their trip to Human Resources the day before.  

"Anyway, deviants don't really feel emotions, they just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions, which can lead to unpredictable behavior." 

Hank stared thoughtfully at Connor for a moment, which surprised Charly. He actually seemed to have taken the androids' words to heart.  

"Emotions always screw everything up. Maybe androids aren't as different from us as we thought." 

_Huh. That response was surprisingly insightful...Wonder if Gary slipped a shot of whiskey into his soda._

"So, Connor. You ever dealt with deviants before?" 

Connor's stance suddenly stiffened, and his LED began to whir. He looked to be deeply lost within the confines of his memory.  

He remained that way for several, long, awkward seconds before Charly leaned over and snapped her prosthetic fingers in his face. "Connor? Hello? Earth to Connor? Come back to us buddy." 

Connor did not acknowledge the gesture made by his female partner. "A few months back...A deviant was threatening to jump off the roof with a little girl...I managed to save her." 

Charly's eyes lit up recognition. "Wait," she said, "I think I remember reading about that.  _CyberLife Android Saves Girl from Deviant Threat_ or some headline like that. Though the article never specified the model used." 

"That was because it was my very first mission out in the field. My handlers ran countless scenarios during the initial testing phases of my creation, but that was my first hands-on experience." 

"Any idea how the girl is handling the psychological trauma? I imagine that whole thing must have been pretty terrifying." 

Connor merely shook his head.  

_Poor kid...I hope she's alright._

"So Connor, I guess you've done your homework, right?." Hank gave his soda a rough slurp from the straw. "Know everything there is to know about me?" 

"Well, let's see. I know you graduated top of your class. You also made a name for yourself during several cases and became the youngest Lieutenant in Detroit." 

Charly smiled inwardly. It was exactly those reasons (and many more) that had spurred her to be just like her uncle. He had accomplished so much in such a short amount of time, all while dealing with a crappy marriage and the toil of an unplanned parenthood. She also remembered the amazing amount of resilience he used to have. Charlotte recalled a time when he had been caught in a shoot-out during a bank robbery. The conflict resulted in Hank being forced to shoot one of them, as they had taken a civilian hostage. Upon closer inspection, Hank discovered that the culprit had been an 18-year-old kid. Needless to say, the experience had shaken him. But at the time, despite how anxious the experience had made him, he still had the motivation to continue his work. He had once believed he was working for the greater good. Again, that iron resilience ran in the Anderson family.  

"...I also know you've received several disciplinary warnings in recent years and...you also spend a lot of time in bars." 

Charly recalled that Hank didn't drink that often before the accident. He also was much more dedicated to his profession. He had been proud of the fact he was a police officer and held its code in the highest regard. He'd give you a verbal lashing if you spoke out of term about police officers. But now? It didn't feel like Hank respected his job anymore. Now it was just a place for him to show up, rough up some people and get paid.  

Hank gave Connor a leery stare. "So, what's your conclusion?"  

Charly took one final, vigorous slurp from her soda, trying to snuff out the final bit of sugary liquid from the bottom of the cup.  

"I think working with an officer with personal issues is an added challenge...but adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features." A diminutive smile crept across his lips, followed by a slow, teasing wink.  

_**/////Hank^^/////** _

The moment Connor's right lid dropped, Charly felt the icy cold liquid get siphoned down into her trachea, causing her to cough, violently.  

"Hey, Charly? You alright?" Hank slid his soda over towards his niece. "Here. Should help clear things up."

"Thanks..." Charlotte pulled the plastic lid from the cup and proceeded to swallow what little cool liquid remained. After a few moments, her coughing fit ceased. 

"Are you feeling alright, Detective?" Connor really was a master of convincing her of his sincerity. 

 _Shit._   _I didn't expect that._ Why in the hell did CyberLife think it was a good idea to make their robots so damned charming?

But Charly knew the answer. Connor was equipped to be the most adaptable robot CyberLife had ever created. If Connor had been human and he used that same level of charm to pick her up at a bar...there is no telling what would happen. 

Trevor's silver eyes flashed through her head. That second date. They had decided to go wine tasting in Downtown Detroit and had both gotten tipsy on Sparkling Rosé. When the couple made their way back to Trevor's car, he decided to steal a kiss. However, it escalated quickly. His firm hands were on her waist, digging into her soft flesh. As he haltingly pulled his lips away, the amber hue of Charlotte's eyes had completely glazed over. 

 _"You're handsome, you know that?"_   She had told him.

Trevor gave his sweetheart a wry smile and a devilish wink. She melted. That was the first time she had ever had sex in a car.

"Charlotte!" Hank's angry voice broke her from her thoughts. "You have got to stop spacing out, kid. You're gonna end up falling on your face."

"Sorry uncle..." Her eyes fell on Conner. "I was just reminded of something, that's all."

Connor could detect a shift in her mood. Judging by the look on her face...She looked like she was about to cry. However, before got the chance to press the matter further, his LED began to flash yellow, which also caused his eyes to twitch rapidly. "I just got a report of a suspected Deviant." Connor eyed his two partners. "It's a few blocks away." His chestnut eyes shifted slyly to the to his right, indicating his eagerness to leave as soon as possible. "We should have a look." He shot his gaze back to them. Despite the fact that it was pouring rain, Charly felt a small sweat begin to breakout along her hairline. 

She shared Connor's desire to depart, desperate to get her body moving again. 

"Well! That deviant is going to catch itself!" Charlotte made a mad dash back to Hank's car. 

Connor's eyes followed the petite woman's form before she disappeared into the car. Her mood had shifted dramatically and Connor was thankful that she was in higher spirits now. 

Connor shot Hank a quick glance before moving away from the table. "I'll let you get back to your meal." 

Connor slipped into the passenger seat, catching a glimpse of Charlotte in the rearview mirror. "Are you alright Charlotte?"

"We aren't off duty, Connor."

"I know. But you seemed distressed a moment ago. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Sorry. It's just..." Charlotte's eyes met his in the reflection. He looked genuinely concerned. 

Charlotte, for a split second, had once again been tricked into thinking Connor was more than an amalgamation of circuitry and thirium. CyberLife was playing a dangerous game by making their androids so indistinguishable from humans. 

"Earlier, you just reminded me of Trevor."

**_ /////Software Instability^///// _ **

Connor was once again hit with an indescribable pressure in his cybernetic, thirium filled core. While androids could not feel pain, he would have described the feeling as...uncomfortable. "I apologize. It wasn't my intention to upset you."

"It's not your fault Connor. You didn't know."

"If you don't mind me asking, what was it that I did that reminded you of him? Just so I can avoid doing it in the future."

Charlotte felt her face flush a little as she was once again struck by a feeling of nostalgia. "You uh...you winked. He used to do that. Made me weak in the knees..." She knew Connor wouldn't pass judgment on her for being sentimental (she was human after all), but she still felt awkward revealing intimate things about her former lover. 

"I see. Very well. I will refrain from such actions in the future."

Charly remained quiet and rested her head against the cool glass of the back window. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving a call about a possible deviant sighting, the trio head to an abandoned apartment complex to investigate. However, surprises await them in the wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7, Oh thank Heaven! I really enjoyed writing this one :) Hope you enjoyed reading it! I will try to get chapter 8 up by this weekend.

Charly was silent the entire ride over to the house where the deviant had been spotted. Her anxiety had gone into overdrive and she was desperate to move her body. Maybe she could sneak off for a quick run while Hank and Connor investigated the complex. 

 _I'll just tell them I need to use the restroom...there's_ _no way they'd say no._ _..Yeah_ _. That will work._   

When they pulled up to the address, Charly scrambled out of the car through the door on her uncle's side.   

"Hey. So that soda went right through me. I really, really need to pee uncle. I'll meet you guys in 5 ok?"  

"Oh for fucks sakes, don't bull shit me Charly." 

Charly felt like she had been cockblocked.  

"Uncle, I feel like I am going to piss myself."  

"Charlotte, I've seen you down 3 shots and able to hold it in for 2 hours. You're full of shit. Don't think I've forgotten your 21st. I'm still trying to get all of the puke stains out."  

Charlotte's face became flushed. _Fuck..._   

"Look just admit you gotta take a shit, ok? Ain't no shame in it."  

"What the fuck, uncle Hank?!" She kicked puddle water at him, her face fuming like a tea kettle.  

 "Gah! Jesus Christ kid..."   

"It's not THAT uncle Hank...Just forget about it. I'll wait till we get back to the station." She turned on her heel and stormed up the stairs towards the rundown apartment complex. 

"Yeesh. This is why I'm glad I never had a daughter" Hank muttered, following up after his niece.   

Connor, however, remained standing in the rain for some time, though the pouring had now become a soft drizzle. He was scanning the building. According to city records, the establishment wasn't supposed to have any active residents...and yet the call that had been received came from this building. This made Connor somewhat doubtful of its authenticity. He suspected the possibility that it had been a prank call. 

"Connor!" Hank called back. "You coming?!"  

\------------------------------------------------------------------ 

"Are you sure this will work?" Ghost's soft voice was barely audible as she spoke, but Cobra was able to read her lips perfectly.  

"I mean, I'm not sure where exactly they'll end up but...what I am certain of is that they'll definitely find it. But it shouldn't be too hard to find them. That thing won't give up without a fight." 

"Just promise me, if things escalate again..." Her voice trembled and she ran a pair of metal, fidgeting fingers through her raven hair. She had recalled their last encounter with their old comrade the day before.  

 _"Damien! We_ _need to get out of here now!_ _That android he_ — _"_  

 _"Oh, come on Ghost! She's right here, I_ — _"_  

 _"Damien! That's the RK800 model! I remember it from the tower...that thing is Amanda's pet. If this gets back to her...she'll find us, Damien! She will find us!"_  

 _"Alright. Fine. You're right. Can't have another heard of rats biting at our heels."_  

"Look," he began, placing a firm, Kevlar covered arm on his young lover's shoulder. "I will keep my cloak activated at all times, ok?" 

"But what if she deactivates it?! She knows how...Or what if the RK800 shows up again!?" 

"Rosalind..." He rarely used her name anymore. "If our shields go down without the android there, I'm sticking around...ok? I'm going to finish this." 

"But—" He placed a textured finger against her lips.  

"But if the shields go down and he shows up? We're out in a heartbeat...I promise." He leaned in and gently kissed her forehead.  

"I just...I want this to be over...I want to sleep." Rosalind's words were muffled by her quiet sobbing, but Damien still heard every word. 

The truth was, he was distressed over the task was going to need to complete once he successfully killed Charlotte; what he had promised the frail woman in his arms.  

Damien was about to try to comfort her again when he heard a car pull up to the building, which was quickly followed by a series of faraway voices. Given how high up the pair was, the conversation of the strangers was inaudible. But even without an idea of what they were saying, Damien was able to identify the sound of his ex-comrades' frantic voice.  

His lover's emotional needs would have to wait.  

\------------------------------------------------- 

As the three rode the dingy elevator up to the 4th, Connor closed his eyes and began to process a report to CyberLife, updating them on the location of a possible deviant within the building. Given how old the metal contraption was, it crawled up the shaft at a sloth's pace.  

"Hey, uncle Hank?" 

"Yeah?"  

"This is probably a stupid question but...You haven't heard from Trevor, have you?" 

Hank snorted and crossed his arms. "Yeah. That was a stupid question." 

Upon seeing the dejected look on his niece's face, a minor feeling of guilt washed over him. "But uh...no I haven't. Why? Did you wanna ring him for a booty call after this?" 

"Jesus Hank...that's not it. I just...I haven't heard from him since I got back." 

"How did he react after the accident?" 

"He uh...Well, he's actually the reason I have these." Her uncle flinched as she flexed the fingers of her right hand. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to it.  

"I figured. Why'd you even go for that look, anyway? Why not get something a little more..." 

"Normal?" 

"Nah. That's not it. Inconspicuous. They make you look like an android kid. Aren't you worried you'll get mistaken for one and get the shit kicked out of you?" 

Charlotte smirked and crossed her arms. "Please. I'm your niece remember? I'd curb stomp anyone who tried." 

She thought Hank would have found her bold threat amusing. His continued silence indicated that he hadn’t. To be fair to Hank, she had pondered the possibility of her being mistaken for an android. But as she said, if it ever happened, she'd know how to handle herself. And for the reason as to why she chose the obvious look was because...she didn't feel the need to hide what she was now. These limbs may have been made of plastic, metal and all other kinds of mechanical material, but they were still part of her now. They moved just like her old limbs did, to the point where she'd forget they were even artificial. The only real difference, at least in her mind, was their aesthetics.  

An aesthetic that Charly thought suited her more candid personality.  

"Look, Hank I—" Her voice was stopped by the sudden jolt of the elevator as it arrived at its destination. Before she was given a chance to continue, Hank grabbed a hold of the metal fence in front of them and pulled it back. Despite its age, it yielded quite easily. 

"Look, we'll save the conversation for another time, alright? We've got robots to hunt." He reached a rough hand out and ruffled his niece's hair before stepping out of the rickety death machine.  

Charly protested her uncle's aggressive form of affection but he paid no mind to it. 

"You messed up my hair..." She muttered as she pulled the elastic tie from her hair and proceeded to run her smooth hands through her auburn locks in an attempt to smooth it back out. After she was satisfied, she re-secured her hair. However, given she had expected another chase to ensure, she tied it much more tightly this time around. However, her handiwork had been slopping and she left a few loose strands handing off her scalp.  

Before stepping out, Charly turned to Connor and lightly nudged his shoulder. "Connor?" He did not so much as twitch and his LED continued to spin.  

He sure was taking a long time to finish that report. 

"Hey, Connor!" Hank's booming voice broke the android from his reverie. He eyes popped open and he wiggled his eyebrows in acknowledgment. "You run out of batteries or what?" 

"I'm sorry. I was making a report to CyberLife." 

"Well, you sure took a long time. We were about to leave you for the hobos." Charly laughed and Connor just gave her an uncertain look.  

"Uh...So, do you plan on staying in the elevator?" 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow upon picking up on the tone in Connor's voice. If Charly didn't know better, she'd swear he sounded embarrassed. Like he had been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar...She wondered if sending a report to CyberLife was all he had been doing.  

In truth, Connor had tried to do some more digging into the call that had been made to the DPD. He had tapped into the Phone records of the dispatch center where the call came in and listened closely to the voice that had made it. 

It was incredibly distorted but was definitely male. Using an internal audio descrambler, he attempted to isolate the person's actual voice from whatever distortion module they were using. However, no matter how many attempts he made, he could strip away enough of the filters.  

Connor wasn't even sure what it was he was looking for, he just knew that the instincts in his programming were communicating to him that something about this tip was amiss.  

As the three walked cautiously down the dilapidated hall, Charly found it difficult to see.  

"I wonder if these things have a flashlight function..." She muttered to herself.  

"So, what do we know about this guy?" Hank asked. 

"Just that a neighbor reported that he heard a strange noise coming from this floor." 

"Oh, Christ..." Hank muttered bitterly. "If we have to investigate every time someone hears a strange noise, we're gonna need more cops!" 

Charly shot Connor a confused glance, still trying to mess around with the features of her cybernetic eyes. "Wait, the guy who placed the call also lives in this building...?" 

"It seems that way. Nobody's supposed to be living here, but the neighbor said he saw a man hiding an LED under his cap." 

"That's...a little suspect," Charly said.  

"I agree, it is a little odd. But this also the only active lead we have gotten today. So I think despite how questionable the circumstances are...this will be worth our time." 

Connor positioned himself in front of the apartment's front door and gave it a light knock. However, there was no response. Connor, unsure of how to proceed, looked to Charlotte. She seemed to be preoccupied because she was staring at the adjacent wall in front of her, her ember irises fluttering rapidly. Upon shifting his gaze to Hank, the old man just shrugged.  

Connor opted to knock a second time. However, this time, he was much more forceful. "Anybody home?" He called out. "Open up! Detroit Police." 

Charlotte chuckled internally as her eyes continued to scan the options of her coronary interface. She knew he was trying, but Connor did not sound the least bit intimidating.  

Connor looked back to Hank and opened his mouth to speak when all of a sudden there came an aggressive rumbling noise on the other side of the door. It sounded like the heavy rushing of footsteps. The now alerted trio scooted back a few feet from the door. Hank had already pulled his gun out and Charlotte was in the middle of taking one of hers out of her left holster.  

"Stay behind us," Hank ordered, holding his gun to the ready.  

"Got it," Connor said swiftly was he slid behind his two human partners.  

"You all set, kid?" 

"Go for it, Hank." She steadied her aim directly at the door in front of her. "Just try not to break your foot..." 

Hank just scoffed before assertively slamming his foot into the deteriorated wood.  

The moment the door flew off its hinges, Hank pushed his way inside, with his niece and Connor following close behind. Upon reaching another closed door at the end of another darkened hallway, Charly quickly slipped in front of her uncle.  

"I got this one," she mouthed quietly to him before placing her hands delicately against the paint chipped door. She inhaled and painstakingly pushed the door open, doing her best to hinges from squeaking too much. Upon poking her head inside the darkened room, she could see the light outline of a broom and a few wire hangars. 

Charlotte turned her head back and nodded to Hank to check the door to his right. Hank, once again being a man of force rather than finesse, kicked open this door as well, upon which he was immediately met with his karmic punishment. 

"Ah! What the fuck is this?!" He cried out as he stumbled into the room.  

Charly quickly moved behind him and aimed her gun, prepared to shoot whatever had startled Hank. But upon seeing the culprit, she relaxed her stance and let out a long, passionate laugh. Her uncle had stumbled into a den of what looked to be pigeons, which happened to be Hank's least favorite living creature on the planet. Hank waved his gun around, frantically trying to bat some of the fat birds away as they fluttered about the room.  

"Watch out Hank! They might peck your eyes out!" She cackled like a witch.  

"Charlotte, I will toss you out the fucking window." He barked.  

Charly just shook her head as she cautiously stepped into what appeared to be the kitchen. As she did, she was suddenly overwhelmed with a powerful, rotting odor that made her want to puke.  

"Jesus, this place stinks." Hank groaned.  

"Yep. Yep. Though this is a slight improvement over what used to happen with mom after eating Indian food..." 

"Hah fucking hah, kid." Hank stepped into another side room, eyeing his surroundings. However, after a moment, he dropped his arms. "Uh, it looks like we came for nothin'. Our man's gone." 

Connor gave a wary stare before he began to survey the room for anything that could help indicate where the suspect had run off to.  

As Connor and Hank both began scouting out other parts of premises, Charlotte had finally found what she had been looking for. 

"Oh wow! It actually works!" 

"Huh?" Hank's voice rang out from the decaying living room. "What the hell are you talking about? Did you find something?!" 

Shit...he knows about my limbs...But I never mentioned the eyes. If he sees these, he will throw a fucking fit.  

"Uh...these pigeon training techniques!" Charlotte scanned her eyes all around the room as the room glowed a tinted hazy, green. She had found a night vision mode.  

Woah...I wonder if this has any more functions. She began to blink her eyes and found a variety of other vision modes.  

"What...?" Hank poked his head back into the kitchen where his niece was standing. 

Thermal mode... 

The colors in the room suddenly became inverted. She looked down at the cluster of birds around her feet. She could see the colorful rays of heat coming off of the little buzzards. "I saw this cool video about how to train pigeons using sign language! And it works! Hank! I'm gonna take over the world using my pigeons!" 

X-Ray mode...The room suddenly became enveloped in an opaque, hazy blue.  

"Oh, Jesus Christ detective! Did you smoke before coming to work today?!" 

Upon hearing her uncle's voice, she turned to face him. However, upon seeing him, she let out a horrid shriek. Hank jumped back in response, confused by her reaction. "What's the matter?" 

Charlotte took a slow inhale and exhale as she was met with her uncle's skeleton. Upon swiping her eyes twice to the left, she was granted a series of layers within X-Ray. With each new layer, she was more and more; nerves, organs, muscles...however she stopped after that. She did not want to risk ripping her eyes out of her sockets. 

 "Please Hank. I only do red ice before an important mission."  

"Fucking hell, kid..." Hank muttered. 

Connor, upon hearing her cries, rushed in. "What's going on?" 

Charly's eyes fell upon the plastic, porcelain form of Connor's original skin. She honestly more scared by his appearance than she had been with her uncle. Seeing her uncle's internal systems was a clear indicator of his physical humanity. But by looking at Connor, she'd once again been reminded that despite how convincing of a human he was, he was still synthetic. An empty shell that was created using man-made parts. A nice coat of paint covering up a scrambled mess of advanced code.  

Charlotte immediately switched back to night vision mode, upon which seemed to cause Connor to stiffen up.  

_**/////SOFTWARE INSTABILITY/////** _

"Connor? What's the matter? You see something?" Hank asked.  

Oh, Connor had seen something alright. A glorious fire was what stopped him dead in his tracks. However, this blaze was not an immediate threat. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

Connor felt a bizarre increase of speed within his thirium pump regulator as if it was suddenly working double time to move his blue blood throughout his body.  

Charlotte hadn't realized it, but upon activating her any of her special vision modes, it caused her eyes to glow vibrantly as if they were delicate cinders embedded into irises.  

And once Connor felt an immense pressure build up in his head and the interface over his optical units began to fizzle out again. 

 _Those eyes again...What is it about them that makes my biocomponents go haywire?_ _Or am I just malfunctioning...Amanda will not be pleased..._  

 _"_ Connor!" Hank's voice rang out in annoyance. "Would you please stop eye-fucking my niece please and get back to work!" 

Charlotte's eyes darted towards the floor and she quickly scurried out of the kitchen and back into the hallway.  

After the visual disturbance ceased, Connor nodded his head and refocused his attention on the task at hand. He'd have to deal with this minor malfunction afterward. Find the suspect was his top priority. His eyes landed on an old military jacket.  

As Connor continued to survey the scene, Charlotte made her way into what looked to be the bedroom. An old, yellow-stained mattress was propped up against the back wall along with an overturned dresser.  

"R.T. Probably initials," Connor concluded after looking at the jacket. 

"He put his initials on his jacket? That's something your mom does when you're in first grade." 

Charlotte listened tentatively to Connor and her uncle as they searched the premises. Unsurprisingly, the walls were paper thin. Upon walking back to the kitchen, she Hank and Connor staring at a wall in the bathroom. She poked her head over Hank's shoulder to see the word "ra9" repeatedly scribbled all over the coarse wall. 

Holy shit...from the report the other night. The one Connor mentioned when he questioned the deviant in the interrogation room _._  

 _"_ Any idea what it means?" Hank asked. 

"Ra9...written 2471 times." 

"I remember this..." Charlotte whispered.  

"It's the same sign Ortiz's android wrote on the shower wall...Why are they obsessed with this sign?" Connor squinted as he stared at the fanatical scribblings on the wall. This was too obscure a link to be just a coincidence.  

Hank stepped closer, his attention being occupied by a bizarre pentagon shape on the wall. "It... looks like mazes or something..." 

Charly turned back around and began to dig through the cupboards of the tiny kitchen.  Her uncle passed her and instead made his way towards a rickety, splinter-framed window and attempting to open it. "Ugh. I need some fresh air..." He grunted as he tried to force the window upwards.  

"I found its LED in the sink!" Connor called from the bathroom.  

"Well, that confirms the suspect is an android." Charly finished up with the cabinets and leaned against the door frame to the restroom.  

"Not surprised it was androids. No human could live with all these fuckin' pigeons." 

"Oh please. Sumo has taken shits that smelled worse than this." Charlotte chuckled as she watched Connor dip his hands into the sink, a weird blue substance now smeared on his synthetic digits.  

"Would you shut the fuck up? I'm tired of your smart mouth. I have half a mind to beat you with my shoe." 

"Oh, Jesus Christ Connor! That is disgusting!" The young detective backed away from the door, and aggressively gripped the frame in her hands and forcing it all the way up.  

"Gross, isn't it?" Hank smirked, realizing what his niece had seen. "Apparently him doing that allows him to check samples in real time or some such sci-fi bull shit." 

Charlotte heaved slightly as she inhaled the fresh air. There had to have been a better, less disgusting way for CyberLife to have implemented that feature.  

"You gonna be ok?" her uncle asked.

"Yeah. Just give me a minute." Charlotte blinked her fiery eyes to close the Night Mode Interface. She winced as her eyes met with the contrasting color of the Detroit sky.  

Hank gave his niece a firm pat on the back before moving away from the window. Charly took a series of deep breathes. She made a note to remind Connor to wash his hands.  

Just as she was about to take one final inhale, a sudden thumping noise caused her to jerk her head backward in surprise. However, as she did, the side of her head collided with the window frame. 

"Ah, shit..." She ducked her head underneath the frame and rubbing the side of her head. She felt like her brain had been scrambled from the impact.  

"Ah! Goddam fuckin' pigeons!" Uncle Hank exclaimed as he stumbled backward, knocking right into his unsuspecting niece. However, before she could release a flurry of obscenities at him, she was interrupted by Hank's authoritative voice barking orders at Connor. "What are you waiting for?! Chase it!"  

As Charly's vision cleared, Charly saw Connor made a mad dash for the door.  

"Jesus...He you alright?" Hank asked, his voice levels dropping back down to a normal volume. 

"Yeah, I just...knocked my head against the window. Where the hell did Connor go?" 

"A fuckin' deviant came raining down from- hey where the fuck do you think you're going!?" Hank's voice drowned out as Charly drastically gained distance between her and her uncle. He didn't have to explain. She knew where Connor had run off to.  

The rest of the world was an unrecognizable, swirling blur as Charlotte feverishly sprinted after her android partner. While the rest of her surroundings melted into one large obscure illustration. The only thing in her vision that remained crisp, clear and focused was Connor.  

She watched him leap over fallen debris effortlessly, slam his body into closing doors, scurry up alabaster walls and slide down smoothly down glass panels. Charlotte imitated many of the same actions as she trailed behind the two androids.  

However, due to the flexibility of her limbs and her smaller stature, Charly's range of motion was much more fluid as she maneuvered around the agricultural plant.  

As Connor disappeared over a knee-height brick wall, Charly was forced to skid to halt as her vision became overcome by a series of mosaic patterns. Something was malfunctioning within her optical interface and it was impeding her from moving forward. She smacked the side of her head, trying to get the interference to cease. 

\------------------------------------------------- 

The MR600 typed furiously typed away on her keyboard, her eyes never once leaving the live footage of the chase in front of her. From the looks of it, Charlotte had followed RK800 and the suspected deviant through the Urban Farms of Detroit Agricultural Plant.  

Charlotte's movements suddenly stopped, however, as interference clouded her vision.  

"It seems the connects in her optics got jostled around slightly when she hit her head earlier. Though it should correct itself soon. Though no sign of Cobra or Ghost yet. Let's hope her systems regain full functionality before they arrive. Her vision settings will be of great assistance...let's just hope she is smart enough to use them..." 

The entity the MR600 was speaking to remained quiet as the live footage continued. Charlotte propelled herself from the glass slope and onto the moving train after Connor and the suspect.  

\------------------------------------------------- 

 By the time it finally dissipated, Connor had leaped off of the glass incline onto a moving train below.  

"Connor!" Charlotte called out as threw her legs out in front of her, the slick glass also carrying her to towards the train below.  

As her feet made contact with the metal car, she could spot Connor a few links ahead. She was about to call out to him again when the deviant bounded towards a ladder that was attached to a metal balcony. Connor quickly followed suit.  

"Shit..." Charlotte steadied herself into a crouching position as the ladder quickly inched closer. She'd only get one shot at this. If she fucked up, she'd most likely lose Connor and the suspect.  

1...2...3! Charly felt the synthetic material of her prosthetics tighten and quickly released as she soared towards the metal structure. Her hands quickly grasped the rails and she immediately scurried upwards.  

\------------------------------------------------ 

"Shall I activate her adrenaline protocol?" The MR600's eyes never broke from the footage on screen, her slender fingers hovering above the command keys on her keyboard. 

"Yes. But make sure to supply her with a minimal dosage. We need her to still be able to think at least somewhat rationally. We can't have her causing mindless collateral damage to the entire facility. That could lead to unwanted attention." Amanda's steely voice resonated through the intercom.  

"Very good, ma'am" She responded, her fingers hastily scrambling across the keyboard. 

\------------------------------------------------- 

As Charly's athletic finesse pulled her forward through a grove of trees and over another rooftop, she suddenly began to feel time slow down around her. It reminded her of the feeling she got when she smoked an Indica strain. The synapses in her brain suddenly began to rapidly make connections. Then the feeling subsided and she was hit with an exuberant burst of energy that rapidly spread throughout her entire body. Suddenly, the rest of the world no longer existed. There only existed three individuals in this game of cops and robbers: Charlotte, Connor and the rogue deviant.  

 _Connor. Deviant. Deviant._ _Devaint_ _._ _Catch the deviant._  

During the pursuit, Charly almost ran into a human employee who had been stationed in one of the establishments' greenhouses. His attention had been briefly diverted as Connor passed by him a few rows down. 

_Human. No threat posed. Avoidance is preferred._

The man winced, preparing for the impact. But a split second before the two collided, Charly made a hard turn right and firmly gripped one of the plastic tables with her right hand. Following this, she hoisted herself up in such a way that it looked like she was doing a one arm handstand. This positioning allowed Charlotte to seamlessly tuck into a semi-roll before flipping over the table completely.  

"Holy. Shit." The worker dropped the pruners he had been holding as the petite woman vanished in a flash out the door that led to the wheat field on the right.  

As Charlotte emerged from the golden-brown vegetation, she came upon a sight that forced her heartbeat to escalate into a terrified frenzy; Hank had been sent tumbling backward off of the brick railing of the roof. The suspect, who had been the one responsible for knocking Hank over, sprinted past Connor.  

An image flashed within Charlotte's mind. A dead body. An open casket. A tombstone.  

 _Deviant. Capture Deviant._  

 _Stop Deviant._  

 _Rip him apart._   

Charlotte immediately bounded off in the direction of the suspect. 

Connor, on the other hand, much his own surprise, had made the snap decision to run to the Lieutenant's aid instead.

_**/////SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^^^/////** _

Upon gripping the elderly detectives' leathery hand, Connor was immediately able to lift back up onto the platform.  

"Shit! Oh, Shit!" Hank belted out a series of obscenities and proceeded to pound the ground with his fists in frustration.  

"It's my fault." Connor lamented. Amanda would not be pleased with his poor performance. "I should have been faster." 

_**/////Hank^^^/////** _

"You'd have caught it if it weren't for me..." Hank was suddenly overwhelmed with an immense feeling of guilt. He knew Connor was supposed to operate in accordance with his programming, but just now...the supposedly unfeeling robot just sacrificed his mission progress for the sake of a miserable drunk. "That's alright. We know what it looks like. We'll find it..." 

Connor appreciated Hanks' more optimistic attitude. But in his mind, the chance of finding the suspect most likely would not yield any results.  

"Alright...Hey, wait a second. Connor wasn't Charly tailing behind you?" 

Connor surveyed his surroundings, trying to discern where he could have possibly lost Charlotte. He had been so focused on the deviant in front of him, he had almost entirely forgotten about his female partner. He was about to run back through the wheat field where he had originally emerged; perhaps Charlotte had been attacked again... 

However, before he had been given a chance to take a single test, a loud, resounding  _bang!_ sounded in the distance to his right.  

A gunshot.  

_Charlotte._

**_/////Software Instability^^^/////_ **

Connor took off sprinting, leaving a confused Hank yelling in the wind.  


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Charly continues to chase after the deviant, she is once again overcome with a strange feeling, one that is compelling her to behave more aggressively. She is also forced into another conflict with Cobra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize greatly for the delay! I have trouble writing action scenes...I also just started going back to work so my upload frequency may drop off a bit after this chapter ^^ I also went back and re-edited my previous chapters because I caught a bunch of errors that I had somehow missed last time. I apologize greatly! Anyway, I will try to get chapter 9 out soon...Though I can't finalize a date at the moment. Regardless though, I appreciate all of the support I have received thus far.

After the suspect managed to escape Hank’s grasp, he scurried frantically towards the edge of the roof. He practically threw himself off in desperation, landing clumsily on a thin metal catwalk below. His right leg crumbled beneath him as he landed, unaware that Charlotte was on his tail.   

When he heard the tremendous thud of boots on metal, he didn’t even think to turn back. He was back on his feet, scrambling like a madman to escape.  

 _Deviant. Suspect. Murderer._  

Charly’s taut, cybernetic limbs carried her across the catwalk. It was narrow and looked like it was used to access the large wind turbines that were positioned around the vegetation fields. As Charly continued to aggressively trail the deviant, she suddenly became aware of another presence. She made a quick glance to her left, seeing two shimmering, translucent shapes on one of the other rooftops.   

 _Possible threat_ _has entered the perimeter. Target remains_ — 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden  _bang!_  The sound was followed quickly by a piercing dart of air hat whizzed past the back of her head.  

 _Ghost._  

The heat within Charly was not deterred by the introduction of another threat. If anything, she was excited to have an additional challenge.   

At the end of the catwalk was a set of stairs, which led up to another concrete platform. The deviant attempted to enter the greenhouse at the top but was distressed to find it locked. He attempted to break away from the door, his body became paralyzed with fear. His pursuer was now standing directly in front of him; an unnerving smile planted on her lips and a fiery red glow in her eyes.   

As Charly reached a hand out to grasp the frightened android’s throat, she noted the probability of Ghost taking another shot at her and plastering her brains all over the metallic floor.   

She had been right.  

But instead of grey matter and blood, the bullet pierced through the plastic casing of an unsuspecting android.   

A split second before the bullet reached its intended target, Charlotte had grabbed the suspect by the neck and flung him around, effectively using him as a shield. Given that Charly was shorter than he was, the aim of the bullet (which had been directed at Charly’s head) ended up piercing the android’s shoulder.   

The android, while unable to feel the pain, let out a cry of terror at what this human had done. He fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder, blue blood trickling down from the wound.   

“Well, that wasn’t very nice.” A voice spoke up.   

But before Charly could discern what direction the voice had come from, an invisible force railed into her abdomen and she was sent flying across the platform. Charly crumpled into a fetal position as her body slammed into the metal guard rail that surrounded the platform. She clutched her arms firmly around her stomach as she desperately tried to suck back in the air the force had knocked out of her.  

\------------------------------------------------- 

“It seems Cobra has made his move. How shall I proceed Amanda? It seems the deviant has not been fully incapacitated.”  

“Connor shouldn’t be too far behind...Though I am concerned. He chose to save the life of the Lieutenant instead of staying focused on his mission.”  

“I suppose Ms. Favreau’s insistence to join the DPD turned out in our favor.”  

“She has proven to quite the valuable asset. At least so far. But the elimination of her former comrades remains our top priority. Though I must admit, I did not expect them to cause problems this early. If they continue to interfere with the deviancy case, see to it that she is removed from her position.” 

Colette simply nodded. 

“Increase her adrenaline output. She won’t be able to capture the deviant if Cobra continues to get in her way.”  

“Very good ma'am.” Colette typed in a series of commands on the keyboard. “Adrenaline output has been raised by 10%.  Current output is estimated at 30%. However, it will take a few moments for the hormone to take effect.“  

\------------------------------------------------- 

Once again, Charly felt an unknown warmth spread throughout her body. Her eyes shot towards the deviant who had crumbled to the ground.   

“Ghost,” Cobra ordered as he made his way over to Charly. He was still fully cloaked, but the iridescent shimmer of his cloaking device was still apparent. “Make sure that android makes it out of here safely. The RK800 won’t be far behind. I’ll catch up when I finish up here.”  

A mysterious series of whispers once again filled the air.   

Charly’s vision finally became clear and focused. An invisible figure had raised the deviant onto its shoulder. It attempted to protest, concerned by who, or what was carrying him. But before he could get far with his objections, he had been carried off.   

The invisible form of Cobra had inched closer and he reached a hand down to grab a fist full of Charlotte’s auburn hair.  

“I really was hoping you’d put up more of a fight.” He pulled the woman to her feet, causing her to flinch. “Oh well. Can’t win em all, right Lynx?”  

He released Charlotte’s hair. As she steadied herself, his other hand shot out and tightly gripped her by the throat and began to squeeze. As he did, he lifted her off the ground and held her over the drop beyond the guardrail. Beneath her was a large field of vibrant blue hyacinths.   

The young woman’s vision began to blur. As her surroundings began to shift from solid, mass structures to amorphous mounds. Before blacking out completely, Charlotte saw what she believed to be a broad-shouldered android coming up the stairs behind Cobra, his gun drawn.  

Before the darkness enveloped Charly’s entire, her body suddenly became overwhelmed by an intense burning. It was a burning which signaled an intense craving that she hadn’t felt this strongly in a long time.  A feeling that dominated her psyche during her time in the field. A feeling that at the present moment, while only minor in its sensation, was still enough to stir Charlotte to action. 

The urge to eradicate everything in sight.   

\------------------------------------------------- 

Connor practically skated across the catwalk as he ran. As he edged closer to the stairs, he was met with the sight of Charlotte being bodied by an invisible force as the deviant clutched his shoulder. Than the deviant was lifted up off of the ground, again by some invisible, unseen entity. Shortly after, he was carried off into the distance. Connor’s circuits could hardly process what he was seeing. Now he knew beyond a reasonable doubt that there were at least two assailants after Charly.   

 _And they seemed to be on the side of deviants._  

Connor knew that if he wanted to save Charlotte from having her throat crushed, he would need the element of surprise. He inched slowly up the stairs and took aim once he reached the top. Right before he fired, his gaze caught a glimpse of Charly’s eyes; they were completely enveloped in a sunset red hue.  

**//////SOFTWARE INSTABILITYY^//////**

While Connor could not see exactly where the bullet would land, he estimated based on where he thought their shoulder would be. As long as he didn’t hit Charly and incapacitated the assailant, that was all that mattered. However, what he did not take into account was just how far Charly was from being dropped off the edge. The moment the bullet struck its target, his female partner was sent plummeting to the flower bed below.  

Cobra clutched his side and let out a pained howl. Connor assumed he had managed to hit the man in a place that was decently exposed/ He had been incredibly lucky. He noted that the bullet had caused the invisible glimmer to fade, revealing the wounded form of the person who had assaulted his partner. He had dirty blonde hair, was wearing green military pants, a black wife beater and steel-toed combat boots. But the aspect of his appearance that caught Connor off guard was his arms. In both his sockets, Cobra was sporting a dual pair of robotic arms. They were muscular and coated with a black, textured mesh, with deep intricate fibers embedded into the material. It almost looked as if he was wearing a thick layer of Kevlar over all the wires and circuitry.   

As his visage came into complete view, Connor could see that the bullet had grazed passed his ribs. It was not enough to permanently disable him, but it would grant Connor a few moments to check on Charlotte’s status.  

Connor turned and bolted back down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he immediately hopped the railing and dashed across the field and around the metal structure. As he turned the corner, Charly was nowhere to be found.   

However, before he was able to continue the search, he was distracted by the forceful thud that sounded from atop the platform. Connor quickly ducked behind a large storage crate, gun at the ready.   

“Come on out Lynx! Your robot boyfriend busted my shield! It’s a fair fight now!” He let out a hearty laugh as he hoisted himself over the guardrail.   

Connor warily peaked his eyes around the corner as Cobra hit the ground, the impact making the earth jolt slightly.   

“Come on out, kitty cat! If you don’t...there’s no telling who's thirium I could spill.” Connor knew he was talking about him.  

Cobra cracked his knuckles as his eyes scanned across the field of flowers in front of him.   

However, unbeknownst to him, when Charlotte had fallen, she had managed to snag her fingers around a large piece of metal that was jutting out on her right. She could hear Cobra stumbling to his knees above. She quickly hoisted herself up and settled herself onto a reinforced rafter that lay horizontally underneath the platform above her. When Cobra eventually threw himself off, she scooted towards the support beam that was to her left and did her best to obscure herself in case he turned around and looked up. She needed to get the jump on him for a change.   

 _Cobra. Target. Incapacitate. Permanently._  

Cobra began to inch forward across the flowery field, surveying to see if his adversary was crouched down behind one of the other storage crates. If he knew Connor was nearby, he clearly didn’t care. He seemed more interested in finding Charly. Though Connor assumed he’d try to come after him if he couldn’t find her.   

He cautiously leaned his head around the crate, looking up to see his female partner.  

 _She is full of surprises._  

Before he could even think of a means to communicate with her, she slowly began to crawl down the support beam below. When she reached the ground, her footsteps were so light, he didn’t even hear the few bits of dead grass beneath her. Her movements were precise and deliberate.  

Connor, who was mere inches from her, attempted to reach a hand out to get her attention. But before he could, she was off like a bullet train.   

Cobra, though having become aware of his prey’s presence, didn’t move with enough reaction time to catch her clutched fist into his kidneys. He stumbled slightly to the right and was then met with his shorter opponent clamoring onto his back and attempting to wrap her slender arms around his thick neck.   

However, this did not yield the results she wanted. Before her upper limbs were given the chance to tighten, one of Cobra’s thick, flexible Kevlar arms reached back behind him and grabbed hold of Charlotte’s leg. He then proceeded to toss her in the opposite direction, towards a large stack of grey crates. As her back slammed into the heavy plastic boxes, causing her vision to become hazy. 

When her vision returned, she looked up to see that Cobra had vanished. He had reactivated his stealth shield.   

 _Thermal vision._  

The moment Charlotte’s activated her thermal scanners, Cobra’s closed fist came flying towards her. However, she immediately ducked and rolled out of the way. This was then followed by her leg swiping out behind her. Cobra only lost his footing for a brief moment, but it gave Charlotte enough time to pull some distance between the two of them. When she was confident that she had sprinted far enough, she made a quick heel turn around. As she did, she brought her fists in front of her and positioned her feet in a combative stance.   

“Man,” Cobra muttered as he turned to face her. “That look. I just. I can’t fucking stand it.” He flexed his prosthetic fingers before clenching them into fists. Charlotte stood silently, her fiery eyes boring into his colorful, infrared form like hot a iron. “It just makes you look so fucking arrogant...”  

Cobra charged at her.   

While he towered over her in size and dealt far heavier blows, he could not match Charly’s reflexes and speed. Every time he’d knock a blow meant to incapacitate her, she’d dodge fast enough to release a small flurry of punches to the weak spots in his flesh. And despite her short stature, she was still fully capable of lifting herself up and landing a few good kicks to his chest.   

However, due to the adrenaline pumping through her, she ended up exerting too much energy too quickly. Her movements steadily became more sluggish.   

After a well-placed roundhouse to his left set of ribs (which was where Connor had previously wounded him), she attempted to follow up the move with another swift kick to his jaw. However, she also intended to accompany this with a dropkick.   

But what she failed to realize that her previous upward kick barely grazed him. So, when her foot came down, her ankle became enveloped in his large fist.   

“Looks like you’re slowing down,” he smirked as he once again tossed her body across the field. “That’s fine. Ghost hates being kept waiting.” He dashed over towards her and was about to slam both of his fists down into her tender stomach when a set of long, slender legs pushed out and upwards, sending him flying behind her a good few feet away.   

As Cobra’s body collided with a huge stack of supply crates, Charly kicked herself up from the ground. However, instead of charging in the direction she had sent her opponent, she scurried further back towards the platform that she had previously jumped from. She turned, squatted down and yanked one of her guns from its holster. From where she was positioned, Connor could see her clearly. The fire was still burning in her eyes, but he could tell that she was becoming fatigued. He scanned her vitals and her heart rate had skyrocketed. His scans also picked up on the absurd amount of adrenaline circulating her systems. She wasn’t pacing herself with her movements and as a result, she was on the brink of collapse. He had to do something, and time was his enemy.   

What made things worse was that he was not equipped with any sort of thermal scan. But it seemed, given that she was able to expertly dodge his attacks —and while also remaining invisible— that she clearly did.   

Another surprise to store away in his memory banks.  

Connor, in a means to get Charlotte’s attention, tossed a small pebble in her direction. She did not turn her head. In fact, the only movement she made was a small circular motion with the weapon in her hand.   

 _Circle. Around._  

She moved closer to Connor’s position on purpose. She knew she was on the brink of collapse and Connor appreciated the fact that she was making good on her agreement to ask for assistance. But she was clearly too focused to use her words.   

Connor abruptly sprinted up from the ground towards the other side of the storage crates. As he skirted around the corner, he was met with Cobra’s muscular backside. Connor knew exactly what she was planning. His gun had previously been able to disable Cobra’s shield, and Charly was clearly intending to try the same tactic again. She didn’t need it, she could see their enemy just fine. But Connor did; that was the only way to guarantee that he could get the jump on him.   

The moment that Charlotte fired, Connor launched himself forward. As he reached him, Cobra swung his arm out and the firm Kevlar coating allowed him to deflect the oncoming shell. While the slug didn’t decrease the speed at which he was charging, it did cause the iridescent film covering him to ripple and vanish. The moment he appeared to Connor, the android leaped up and wrapped his arms around Cobra’s muscular neck.   

While his female partner had been unsuccessful in her previous attempt at this maneuver, Connor’s arms were much longer and thicker, so he was able to obtain a more secure grip.   

Cobra gagged as he attempted to let out a gasp of surprise. He stumbled backward slightly before digging his charcoal colored fingers into the fabric of Connor’s jacket in an attempt to pry him off.  

Connor did his best to press all of his weight into Cobra’s throat. Cobra, now in a frenzy, slammed his back up into the firm wall of a large shipping container to his right. While this did force Connor to loosen his hold, it granted Charlotte the time she needed to out a small tanto point knife from one of the inner pockets of her jacket.  

Before Cobra could slam Connor into the wall a second time, Charlotte immediately sprung forward. As she reached the both of them, her cybernetic legs became wrapped around his middle torso and she dug the knife deep into the underarm of her former teammate.   

She knew that his underarms contained the Kevlar's weakest point. The underarm was where all of the connecting threads of the material had been attached to his original body. Once the knife pierced through, she aggressively dug it into his flesh.   

Cobra let out a pained outcry and reached out to grip Charlotte with his still working hand. Before he could, however, Connor once again tightened his arms around the man’s neck. Cobra began to gag again as his air was once again ripped from him, allowing Charly the chance to dig the knife into his other underarm. However, she didn’t get the chance to dig it in as far and immediately ripped herself away.   

As she did, Connor released his grip. Unfortunately for him, this allowed Cobra to reach behind him with his slightly better arm, and yank him forward over his shoulder and tossing him in Charlotte’s direction.   

Charlotte managed to catch her android partner, but given her depleted stamina, she did it poorly, which caused the pair to tumble to the ground.   

“Charlotte?” Connor asked. Her eyes were closed, her face was flushed, and she was panting uncontrollably. Another scan revealed she was equal parts exhausted and dehydrated.   

Connor turned his head back towards Cobra. He was hunched over, also panting heavily. A mixture of blue and red liquid trickling from the wounds in his arms.   

 _Blueblood...so the design of the prosthetics is more than just an aesthetic one. They function just like android limbs. Then does that mean..._  

His eyes once again went to his partner, whose eyes were no longer closed. The glowing, burning shade of red had diminished completely and they were once again soft coals.   

 _Do her arms operate the exactly like his...?_  

 **//////SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^ CHARLOTTE^//////**  

Connor gently looped his arm underneath Charlotte’s and hoisted her up from the ground. Given that more than half of her body was comprised of prosthetic plastic, she was incredibly light. Connor once again eyed Cobra, who was trying in vain to lift himself up, a series of inaudible curses following thereafter.   

Before Connor was given the chance to take another step, his senses were overloaded with a harsh, high-frequency pitch that filled the air around him. He had recalled hearing something similar during his last encounter with the man before him. However, this time, it was much louder.   

His vision became slightly scrambled as an intense pressure began to build in his artificial lobe. When he managed to refocus, he saw what appeared to be another glistening shimmer, one that was standing directly in front of Cobra.   

“I...I’m sorry Ghost. I made a mistake. I played with her for too long...I’m sorry...”  

A series of soft whispers were heard throughout the air.   

“Jesus, what the actual fuck is going on!?”  

Connor’s eyes shot up above him and were met with the visage of Hank starring down at the scene below. 

“H...Hank...” Connor saw Charly’s eyes become overwhelmed with shock. She seemed genuinely surprised to see her uncle.    

“Alright...I’m sorry but can you-” Cobra began but was interrupted by the invisible force lifting him up off of the ground. Given how far it managed to get him off the ground, Hank assumed that whatever that thing was...it was certainly quite smaller than the man it was holding.   

And before Hank could release a string of questions and obscenities, Cobra and the bizarre, unknown shimmer hastily exited the scene.   

Hank, completely floored by what he had just seen, made no attempt to chase after them. Instead, his eyes fell to his two partners below, both a little worse for wear...  

 _This is way the fuck above my pay grade..._   

\------------------------------------------------- 

Charlotte leaned all of her weight against Connor as he helped her walk behind Hank. By the time the trio made it back to Hank’s vehicle, it was already 4:41 pm and the rain once again began to pelt the streets of Detroit.   

During their treck back, she had time to process everything that had conspired. She remembered seeing Hank fall. She assumed that was what ignited her passion to go after the deviant. She was thankful that he was alive. She eyed Connor as they shuffled across the open fields. His gaze remained focused.  

He saved Hank...He chose not to go after the deviant.  

Charly was floored by the revelation that Connor had just gone against his programming. He had found the life her uncle more valuable than catching the deviant. But the question that lingered in her mind was...why? Why would have driven Connor to make a decision like that? 

Charly noted she’d have to find a way to thank him later.  

But there were other questions that began to claw away at her thoughts; what had driven  _her_ to use the deviant as a human shield?  

Or what had compelled her to want to rip Cobra’s body to pieces... 

For some reason, at that moment, when she was under the impression that Hank had died, it had driven her to an unbridled state of untapped savagery.  

She then eyed her uncle. He walked quietly with his shoulders hunched and his hands buried in his pockets. He hadn’t said anything on the walk back. He seemed to be stewing over things. Charly that the list of questions he had had most likely just tripled... 

When they finally arrived back at the car, Charlotte—desperately wanting to avoid confrontation with her uncle—shoved passed both Hank and Connor and dove into the back seat of the car without a word.  

Connor was about to enter the vehicle when Hank pulled him to the side, a few inches from the car.   

“Connor,” he started. His voice was a mixture of both concern and admonishment. “What the hell was all that? That guy...he had robot limbs too, didn’t he? I know she won’t tell me anything...so I am ordering you to tell me everything you know about this shit.”  

Connor knew that his programming dictated that he answer his superior's question in full. But something began to stir within his central processor. He wasn’t sure how to describe the sensation. It wasn’t a pressure like his previous discomforts. The best way to describe it was a sort bit of tension that was centered directly within his processor.  

 **////// SOFTWARE INSTABILITY//////**  

“There seem to be two suspects involves. They ambushed Detective Favreau shortly before I arrived. Their intention seemed to be simply to merely be extraction, as they split up after I made my presence known. Detective Favreau attempted to pursue them, but that larger fellow proved to be quite the challenge for us both.”  

Connor wasn’t sure what had compelled him to lie to his superior. While he had promised Charlotte that he wouldn’t reveal anything to Hank, he had intended on breaking it if he was placed in a position where withholding the information interfered with his programming. He wanted to be amicable with humans, but he knew he could not hold true to any promises made if it went against his orders.   

Then had he just lied to Hank, disobeying a direct order?  

Hank frowned and crossed his arms. “So, you’re telling me this guy is connected to the deviant case and has nothing to do with her? What about the arms?”  

“My scans conclude he is a discontinued military model of Android,” He continued to stretch the white lie as thinly as he could. “His file concludes his programming was far too aggressive for use, however. I assume he developed his deviancy quite early on, which might explain how he escaped CyberLife before deactivation.”  

Hank looked Connor dead in the eye. The scale the amount of trust he was able to place in this piece of plastic was leveled at an even keel...but the information Connor had given him would determine whether or not what direction the scale would tip.   

“You swear you are telling me the truth?”  

Connor was half compelled to shoot his right pinky up as a means to further prove that his words were true, even though they weren’t. But after a moment of consideration, he decided against it, worried that revealing his knowledge of this intimate ritual might set Hank off.   

It also might make him more suspicious.   

“I am programmed to follow your orders alone, Lieutenant. Unless otherwise directed by CyberLife.  

Hank let out a sigh of defeat before shuffling tiredly back the driver’s side door, with Connor following close behind. Before Hank opened the door, he spoke up again.  

“Hey, Connor?”  

Connor’s android body welled up with tension as he looked Hank dead in the eyes. He wondered if Hank would continue his questioning, but the thoughtful look on his face seemed to suggest the opposite.   

“Never mind.” Hank shrugged before nestling himself behind the wheel of his car.   

He trusted Connor’s word. But he and Charlotte still needed to have a serious talk.   

 _Maybe after_ _a drink...or two._   

END OF CHAPTER 8  


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank, exhausted after another long day, decides to take his niece out for dinner and a drink. However, much to his annoyance, Charly insists on bringing Connor along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I apologize for the slower uploads. Also, I know this chapter is a little short, but I really wanted to provide an update. I was going to add a lot more, but I just do not have the time at the moment. I've been back to work for about a month (I just started my second year of grad school) and I will not have enough time to upload as frequently. Regardless, I appreciate any comments, bookmarks and kudos ^^ Even if this fic doesn't gain much traction, I really want to finish this story regardless. I haven't been this passionate to write anything in a while.

            The drive back to the station was preserved in pondering silence. Hank, Charly, and Connor were all mulling over the events that had occurred in the past few hours. While each processed their thoughts differently, there was one, singular desire that all three of these individuals shared: a drive to discover the truth.

            For Hank, he questioned the legitimacy of Connor's affirmation that the large, hulking cyborg was, in fact, just an ally to the deviants. His detective's intuition, albeit weathered with age and alcohol, still couldn't shake the feeling that his niece and that stranger were somehow connected. What were the chances that two people, both with enhanced, cybernetic limbs, would run into one another? The coincidence was too large to sweep under the rug. But then again, he had no reason to really doubt Connor. The android was driven solely by his directive, and would, therefore, have no reason to lie. At least, as far as Hank knew. While he was tempted to press the both of them for information, he suspected that would not get him very far. Connor didn't have a pain threshold and he couldn't be won over using emotional manipulation, as he had none that could be manipulated.

            Hank also conceded that his niece most likely wouldn't open about it either, if there was a connection. Again, besides the coincidence of them both having cybernetic arms, there wasn't a stronger thread between them. If Hank pressed her, she'd most likely recede further into her shell. Much like him, when she was terrible about expressing her inner turmoil. She was an independent spirit and held the needs of others in a higher regard. Hank just had to accept that Charly had her secrets; secrets that she was legally obligated to keep. Secrets that she would one day, find the means to reveal to him. Just not right now.

            Charly was mulling over the confrontation she had had with Cobra. She flexed her fingers and her toes, almost as if to remind herself that she was, in fact, still in control of her motor skills. When she had been chasing after the deviant, she had noticed that her body seemed to move in a way that was somewhat involuntary. Almost as if she hadn't had complete control of the decisions her body was making. What made it even stranger was that she recognized the feeling. She had compared it the feeling that washed over her when she used to get stoned in college. She felt limber but energized.

            But she stopped smoking after she had joined the police force. And while she could not recall a time where she did it during her service with the U.S. Military, she couldn't shake the notion that it was during that period when she last experienced this lack of control.

            However, what makes things even more troubling was that...she couldn't recall the details of _when_ she had experienced it. She just knew that she had. There were so many gaps and black spots in her memory and every time she tried to do a little digging (with the help of her cybernetic eyes) she'd just be met with the same rush of pain to her skull.

            It was clear there were things CyberLife didn't want her to know. Another condition to pay for all the bodily advancements she had been gifted with. Frustrated, defeated, and in a shit ton of pain, Charly laid her head against the cool glass of the window and allowed the soft tapping of the rain to lull her to sleep.

            Connor's eyes never left the road in front of him. While he could make out the vague shape of Hank in his peripheral, he did not make any attempt to engage with him like he usually did. He was running an internal diagnostic test to see if his systems were functioning properly. He was trying to discern whether or not an error in his programming had caused him to make the choice to rescue Hank as opposed to dealing with the deviant. But when the tests confirmed he was functionally at 100% capacity, he switched his attention to rationalizing why his programming had made the decision, to begin with.

He came to the conclusion that he needed Hank for his mission to be successful. If Hank had been injured, it would have further antagonized him, which would have made working with him all the more challenging. Connor gathered that if he had gone after the deviant and allowed Hank to fall, he most likely would have insisted Connor be re-assigned or sent back to CyberLife altogether. If the former, Connor believed that it would have been nearly impossible to find another detective to work with - other than Charly of course. But given her loyalty to her uncle, if something had happened to Hank (and Connor had done nothing), she would most likely abandon Connor in a heartbeat.

            Besides maybe Charly, the fact was, almost no one would want to work with an android that would place the life of an officer at risk for the sake of CyberLife's mission. Connor would just have to remain satisfied with the fact that if he wanted to fully optimize his mission's chances of success, he would need to ensure he did not jeopardize his relationship with the DPD. 

            As Hank rounded the corner and began to turn his car into the DPD's underground parking lot, Connor rapidly blinked his eyes and ended his diagnostic report.

            When Hank pulled into his designated spot and switched off the engine, the android's hazel eyes briefly fell upon the form of his female partner in the backseat. She had completely nodded off. That didn't surprise him, given how much she had exerted herself in the past several hours. But he did wonder just how much danger she was actually in. Hank seemed to have bought his story about the man called Cobra, but a part of him accepted the possibility that Hank would eventually come to learn the truth. 

            It was Connor's hope that he could avoid any more interruptions from the aggressive cyborg. Given his injuries, he imagined it'd be a while before they were forced to deal with him (or his ghostly partner) again. But in the meantime...Connor took into consideration whether or not Cobra would try to come after Charlotte in a more informal setting, such as her home, or in the DPD office itself. From what Connor gathered, while the man was tactical, he did not necessarily rely upon subtlety. 

            Charlotte had been granted a moment of reprieve, but who knew how long it would last. 

            "Hey, Charly!" Hank's voice finally shattered the silence between the three. "I'm not running a hotel service here! Wake up!"

            "Hmmm...?"  Charly's voice was groggy and she had a small pinkish imprint on her cheek. "What?"

            "Come on, kid. We're back at the station. Those reports aren't gonna write themselves, now are they?"

            "No...I guess not." Charly rubbed the sleep from her eyes. 

            Hank stepped out of his car and Connor quickly followed suit. As Charly trailed behind them back into the station, Hank turned to look back at her. "Hey, Charly?"

            Charlotte caught off guard by her uncle's voice. "Huh? I uh...yes?" She still seemed to be somewhat disorientated from her impromptu nap. 

            "After we finish our report, we should grab a bite."

            "Not from The Chicken Feed I hope..." she mumbled. 

            Hank scoffed. "Please! I may eat there a lot, but I still have a taste for the finer things, you know."

            Charly leaned idly against the gray concrete wall next to the lot elevator while her uncle pressed the call button. "I mean, what did you have a hankering for?" She shot him a cheeky grin.

            Hank ignored the pun and stepped into the elevator as the doors slid open, followed closely by his two partners. "I was thinking Rosso's."

            "Holy shit. Haven't been there since..."

            "Your high school graduation." He said matter-of-factually.

            Charly smiled inwardly. Despite all of the tension between them and his temperament, it seemed he still wanted to reconnect. While he hadn't been interested in the prospect the day before, Charly believed he was sincere in his desire to make up for it. 

            "I would love to!" She exclaimed. 

            "Alright. I'll try to finish up my part of the report within the next hour." 

            Charly thought to make a snide remark about his sudden timely work ethic but ultimately decided against it. She didn't want to dampen his mood. Hank just nodded and shuffled back into the precinct as they elevator arrived at the designated floor. 

            Charly exited the elevator, but instead of immediately following behind her uncle, she turned back to face Connor. "Hey um. Sorry. Didn't mean to mean to treat you like you were invisible."

            "You have no reason to apologize, Detective. It is good to see the two of you rekindling your relationship."

            Charlotte rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I'm glad he has softened a little bit. Though it'll be a while before he drops the walls completely. I don't hold it against him though. I knew what I signed up for when I came back, at least with Hank. But uh...there is a lot of stuff that's happened that I was not prepared for."

            "Such as the cyborg?"

            "Yeah, exactly...Listen, Connor." Her body language stiffened slightly and she stared down at the floor. "I wanted to thank you for helping me out again today."

            "No need to thank me. You are my partner. I am sure you would have done the same for me or for the Lieutenant. That being said..." Before Connor was given the chance to continue,      Hank's voice rang out from across the hall. 

            "Hey! These reports aren't going to write themselves!"

            "Hank's right..." Charlotte turned on her heel and began to follow Hank. However, before she even made it a few feet, she craned her head back towards Connor, who was trailing closely behind her. "Would you like to come with us?"

 ------------------------------------------

            Hank's grumpy deposition only worsened when his niece insisted on inviting Connor with them. He had been hoping to talk to her privately but didn't feel comfortable expressing that with her. He'd figured that she would have been able to pick up on that. Unfortunately for him though, she hadn't and Connor ended up accompanying the pair to the Rosso's.

            As Charly and Hank conversed with one another, Connor spent most of the evening with his own thoughts. He had remotely accessed the DPD's files and was quickly scanning through the reports the two had made earlier that afternoon. He wanted to make sure all of their reports contained consistent information. In his own report, Connor had left out certain details regarding the two cyborgs that had interfered with their pursuit. Upon reading the other two reports, he was thankful to discover that they had, in fact, included similar information. Both had also noted that they believed the assailants were working directly with the deviant, possibly making them deviants themselves.

            Satisfied with their reports, Connor sent over a copy of his report to CyberLife. He knew Amanda would want a more detailed briefing later, but he felt this would suffice for now. 

Shifting his attention towards his partners, Connor activated his X-Ray scanner. He noted both of their faces were becoming flushed, their internal temperatures had increased and their blood alcohol level was at 0.03%. It was clearly a side effect of the Dolcetto they had been nursing with their meal.

_They're most likely going to need cab rides back home..._

            "Uncle, you've got to explain to me how Gavin became a homicide detective. Homicide!" Charly slipped a large fork full of chicken parmesan past her lips. 

            "Hey, hey. Look. It's one of the great mysteries of the world. Like crop circles."

            "Or how a reality show host became a president?"

            "Exactly!" Hank shoveled a plump sausage chunk into his watering mouth. 

            Connor sat quietly throughout most of the dinner, only speaking during the occasional question from Charlotte. Though the android noted Hank's annoyance at this whenever it occurred. 

            "So, Connor," She pointed her fork in his direction "I'm curious. Are all Cyberlife androids fully equipped? Or is it only the sex-bot ones that have the extra material?"

            Connor gathered the context of her question to mean she was referring to the genitalia of male and female androids. Before Connor was given a chance to answer, Hank gave his niece an aggressive nudge to the ribs.

            "Jeez, do you want me to lose my fucking lunch?" Hank grimaced. 

            "Sorry, uncle Hank. I forgot wieners make you uncomfortable. Though you seem content shoveling them into your mouth."

            "You're outta line again, Charly."

            Charly just smirked and knocked back the rest of her wine. Her cheeks were now completely flushed.

            Definitely will need a cab home. 

            "So, kid. Now there is something I  _wanna_  know."

            "Shoot."

            "Where in the holy hell did you get those guns?"

            "Huh? Where else, Hank? The poli-"

            "Not those ones, kid." Hank's brow furrowed. 

            Charly shifted uncomfortably. Shit. She thought. She'd fucked up. "Well, I uh...you know I-"

            "After all the shit I've gone through today, I think it is perfectly reasonable for you to answer at least one of my questions. Did you get em from the military? Or were they "get-back-together" gift from Trevor?"

            Technically speaking, given that Hank was already aware of her work with the military and as well as her relationship with Trevor, she was legally allowed to confirm his question. "A little bit of both." Her normal stubborn barriers had been broken down by the Dolcetto. 

            "And where did he get the inspiration for that...design?"

            "Actually...it was my idea to make them look this way. I wanted them to stand out. I don't feel ashamed to hide them."

            "Really? Then why wear clothes to cover em up?"

            "I don't want to look like I'm putting myself out there. I wanna treat these things like they're totally normal. Almost like a scar, you know?”

            "Why would you wanna do that?"

            "Well, even if they don't look it, they function just as good as the real thing.” There was a brief pause as Charly carefully contemplated how she would handle this next subject. “You remember how I asked you earlier about Trevor?" Her voice softened upon saying his name. 

            "Yeah...?"

            "Well, right before I was discharged, he said he'd contact me once he finished up his last contract. I'm still waiting to hear from him." Charly admitted to herself she was probably spilling a little too much information for comfort, but she felt a little more at ease as she opened up to her uncle. "I promised to help him get his prosthetics project off the ground when my service had concluded. I figured that if people were able to see how well these things function, it’d help establish public interest for the project. CyberLife always had him on a leash, so he was limited in the stuff he was able to accomplish."

            "Huh...think he ditched yah?"

            Charly shrugged. "It's possible. He never said when he'd contact me, just that he would when he was finished with his work." Charly stabbed her fork back into the last bit of pasta on her plate. 

            Hank decided to switch the subject. "Did it hurt?"

            "When they connected the nerve endings. That was excruciating. It feels like fire is being shot up through your veins."

            "That is quite impressive, Charlotte," Connor spoke up. "The connection between your nerve endings and the prosthetics appears to be almost seamless. At least, if your reflexes are anything to go by."

"Heh." Charlotte flexed her fingers before twirling her fork between her slender digits. "You've got Trevor to thank for that."

            Hank rolled his eyes. "Please! I still think you are still too good for that wise-ass."

            Charly playfully returned her uncle's previous jabs to the ribs.

**END OF CHAPTER 9**


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